


divided ceaseless revolt

by MistressEast



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Assassination Attempt(s), Betrayal, Fade to Black, Fluff, Getting Together, Go with me on this, Gratuitous Hand Holding, Healthy Communication, Implied Sexual Content, Kray is the king and Parnassus is the name of the country, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Non-Explicit Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Unrequited Crush, Violence, a lot of explaining, a proper action scene, a second happier wedding, bc this is my fic and i get to chose the tropes, borderline cuddling, god can you imagine??, i missed those funky boys, id describe my writing style as apocalyptic and i think yall know why, limited descriptions of medical treatment, local idiots switch to domesticity so fast your head will spin, mad burnish reunited at last!!, original burning rescue member, real info about ancient japanese firefighters bc that shit is mad interesting, she will be okay i promise, so excited i finally get to tag that, so much fluff omg, the promare is just a big power source not a bunch of sentient aliens, this is highly indulgent, trigger didnt give thyma a character so shes mine now, two idiots trying to communicate honestly, very brief but it's there, we made it gamers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 78,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressEast/pseuds/MistressEast
Summary: After decades of violent war, peace between the nations of Parnassus and Promare has finally been established by the promised union of Prince Galo Thymos and Regent Lio Fotia. The two have never met, but their wedding is suddenly the most important event in recent history and they know that millions of lives are riding on their ability to get along, or, at least, their ability to fake it for the cameras.Unfortunately, neither are the type to just sit back and let things happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whether you love what you love, or live in divided ceaseless revolt against it, what you love is your fate. —Frank Bidart
> 
> This is a WIP, but I wanted to go ahead and post it to get my foot in the door with all this new Promare content (which I'm so excited about!!) coming in these days. The other chapters will probably be longer than this, but this is a pretty good baseline. I'm LIVING for all the fics where Lio and Galo get married right after the movie to smooth things out with the public and I was like "i wanna do that but totally different" so here we go.

When Galo imagined his wedding, it was always in the vaguest possible sense.

Most people think about it in some capacity, right? So even if he never sat down and planned the thing out, he had some ideas on how it might go. Eventually he’d meet someone really cool, decide together to get married, and then it would happen somehow. There was always an impression of a nice ceremony, with his friends razzing him affectionately, his fans cheering wildly, Kray standing there with that placid smile, and his partner by his side. Gender wasn’t really a factor, but all the movies featured someone in a fluffy white dress, so Galo figured one of them would statistically be wearing one, but that was about as far as he’d considered the whole ordeal.

He figured it might happen eventually, and, if it didn’t, no big deal. Not worth worrying about.

Except now it seems to be the only thing anyone in the city is worrying about at all.

Anyone including Aina, who pauses in front of the couch he’s lounging on at the station and puts her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you have an appointment today?”

“Do I?” Galo asks, not looking up from his book.

“For your suit?”

“Suit?”

“For your _wedding_?”

“Oh.” Galo squints up at the clock on the wall. “Was that today?”

Aina throws her hands in the air. “For _fuck’s sake_, Galo—” then she’s yanking him off the couch, shoving him out the door and toward his bike. “If you’re not going to keep track of this stuff on your own, hire a PA!”

“Why would I need to hire someone when you’re already doing all the work?” Galo grins, not resisting but not making it easy for her to push him.

She groans. “At least pretend to take this seriously!”

He laughs, swinging a leg over the motorcycle and revving the engine. “I am!”

Rolling her eyes, Aina jams his helmet onto his head and snags her own from her bike, parked nearby. “The king is going to kill you if you miss another fitting!”

“Well, I’m not missing it, am I? Wait, what—” he breaks off as Aina situates herself behind him. “You’re coming?”

“I have to make sure you actually go this time instead of getting distracted and ending up in a tree.”

“I _told _you, there was a _cat_ and a _squirrel_ and they were fighting and—”

“Yeah, I got it, now drive!” she barks in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

Sighing, Galo peels out of the parking lot and down the street.

Honestly, Aina may have a point. A little bit. It’s not that Galo has been impeding the wedding preparations, he’s just not, how do you put it, _into it_. It’s not like it’s something he decided for himself, after all. He’s marrying the Regent of Promare in a purely political bid to end the hostilities between Promare and Parnassus. That kind of thing might be seen as archaic by some people, but after decades of brutal, expensive, extremely deadly war between the two nations, anything that serves to stabilize the situation is welcome, and sending King Foresight’s adopted son to Promare to rule alongside their Regent would definitely stabilize things.

Or so he’s been told.

Aina sits in a fancy leather chair at the upscale tailor shop and watches while Galo is measured and pinned and posed like a mannequin.

She giggles when the tailor slaps his hand away from one of the chalk lines on the suit jacket Galo glares at her. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, I’m glad I came.” An assistant offers her a cup of tea and she accepts it with thanks, pulling her phone out. “It’s weird,” she hums, scrolling across the screen. “There’s been all this publicity since the engagement, but I haven’t seen much about your fiancé online.”

“I heard he’s pretty private.” Galo nervously watches the tailor stick a pin into the fabric of his pants. “He hasn’t been Regent very long. I don’t blame him for wanting to stay out of the press.”

Aina scoffs. “If only you could do that.”

“Can’t help that I’m popular.”

“But you _can_ help getting yourself into ridiculous situations that might embarrass the king.”

“Can’t help that either.” Upon his official adoption, Galo was repeatedly warned that his typical antics would not be tolerated. He could continue working with Burning Rescue as long as he behaved himself. But Galo is incapable of sitting still, and if he sees someone in need of help, how could any reputation supercede that? The king endures it all gamely, often interceding with the government’s PR people on Galo’s behalf.

“I can’t deny who you are, Galo,” he said once, and Galo’s chest still grows warm at the memory.

Aina purses her lips. “Oh, here’s a story about that apartment fire.”

Galo brightens up. “Did they rehome everyone yet?”

“Says they did. Oh, and there’s a picture of you holding a baby.”

The Parnassus military is specialized to deal with fire, and during active conflict, Burning Rescue is mobilized as a guerilla anti-Burnish unit, but during peacetime, it serves as a regular fire department, leaving the border dispute stuff to Freeze Force and the rest of the military. Galo’s team in particular sees plenty of action, being inner-city, but after his adoption and official coronation as Prince of Parnassus, Galo scored them an additional gig as his private security detail. It’s not like he needs protecting, but boring diplomatic dinners are a lot more bearable when he gets to bother Remi the whole time.

Galo puffs up at the mention of the baby picture. It was taken right after he’d emerged from the crumbling remains of the building, cradling the sooty and wailing infant he’d pulled from a half-crushed crib on the third floor. The baby had screamed the entire time, leading Galo right to her. He’d never been so relieved to hear a baby cry.

“Prince Galo, please stay still,” the tailor orders, snapping her measuring tape threateningly.

“Sorry,” Galo squeaks.

“So how do you feel about all this, Galo?” Aina asks, sipping her tea. “You’re basically gonna be king, right?”

“I guess?”

“And?”

“How should I feel, Aina?” Galo extends his arms as the tailor directs and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. “To be stupidly honest, I kind of wish I was here getting this monkey suit stitched onto me of my own free will, but I’m not upset. I just want to do what’s best for the country. And the king.”

“Right.” Aina clicks her tongue. “Everyone’s so excited about the wedding, no one really remembers it’s a business contract.”

“Basically. _Don’t shoot me and I won’t shoot you._” In Galo’s mind, the whole thing more closely resembles a hostage situation, only he isn’t entirely sure which one of them is the hostage. Regardless, he’s not gonna let himself be bitter about it. That won’t help anyone.

The wedding is in a month. After some debate, Promare consented to holding the ceremony in Promepolis, given the fact that Galo will spend most of his time in Promare afterwards, and the whole city is in uproar. His fiancé, Regent Lio Fotia, arrives in two weeks, and the government is determined to put their best foot forward. Peace talks only started progressing once Regent Fotia took over, so Galo, at least, feels like they owe him a lot.

Aina bites her lip, staring blankly in Galo direction. She acts bubbly and unbothered by the whole thing, but Galo can tell she’s not a fan of the situation. No one on the team is, but he also knows they’re trying to stay upbeat for his sake.

He’s really gonna miss them while he’s off being king of a foreign country.

“Alright, Miss PA,” he chirps, earning an exasperated look from the tailor and a startled jump from Aina, “what’s after this?”

Her eyes narrow. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“Probably!”

She sighs. “You’re lucky Biar texted me your schedule. Kray definitely knew you’d be like this. Anyway, there’s nothing else today, but tomorrow—”

“Then let’s get ice cream after this!”

“Hey, listen when I’m trying to—”

“Can’t hear you, thinking about ice cream!”

“You—” she shakes her head, but she’s smiling again. “Fine, you big toddler.”

He shoots her a wink.

* * *

To be completely honest, Lio never thought about his own wedding.

He thought about the concept of weddings in general, knew people who got married, even attended a wedding with Thyma once when she insisted she couldn’t stand to go alone, but none of that ever made him consider his own. It simply wasn’t important. From a young age, Lio knew his destiny was to devote himself to Promare and the Burnish, and romantic relationships never factored into that. He didn’t anticipate this turn of events, that his destiny to lead the Burnish would railroad him straight into a wedding of all things.

“So you’re just letting them plan _everything?_” Gueira demands incredulously.

“It’s only fair,” Lio responds calmly, accepting a clipboard from the lead technician and glancing over it. “It’s their city.”

“Yeah, but, boss, this is your _wedding_ we’re talking about—”

“We’ll have our own ceremony once we return to Fennel.”

“It’s not the _same_—”

“Stop whining,” Meis cuts in irritatedly. “He’s already made his decision.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t expect you to understand—”

While his lieutenants bicker quietly in the background, Lio nods at the technician and passes the clipboard back. “It’s a good idea. Keep me informed of your progress.”

She salutes. “Yes, Regent.”

As she hurries off, Lio looks out over the facility stretching beneath the viewing platform he’s standing on. Techs and scientists bustle about below, conferring with each other and attending to the boxy, complex machinery. Even here, above ground level, Lio can feel the hum of the Promare Core vibrating up through his feet. There are multiple facilities like this one throughout Promare, but this is the largest and most central to the Core, dedicated to harvesting and studying the energy it emits. In the past, these efforts were focused solely on military advancements and defense, but now that the conflict with Parnassus is over, Lio is determined to refocus them in the interest of scientific research and the betterment of society.

His people will no longer have to call upon the Core for violence. He’s going to make sure of that.

And if that involves letting their former enemy plan his wedding, then so be it.

“That’s enough,” he says, turning to his retainers, who immediately snap to attention. “If it alarms you so much, Gueira, you can be in charge of planning the second ceremony.”

That actually makes him straighten up a little, eyes shining. “Really, Boss?”

“You two can work together on it.”

“Heh—” Gueira throws an arm over Meis’s shoulders, squabble forgotten. “That might be kind of fun.”

Meis smiles crookedly. “We’ll make sure it’s one hell of a party.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Lio gestures for both of them to follow him and heads off down the hall. “I have a meeting with the head architect of the new research center, and then an interview later tonight. Meis, do you have—”

“The budget proposal, yup, here it is.” Meis passes over a folder and Lio accepts, flipping through it without breaking stride. “When do you leave, Boss?”

“Next week,” Lio murmurs. “Of course, I’ll need you two to stay and keep things in order.”

“Sucks that we’ll miss the fireworks,” Gueira laments, lacing his fingers behind his neck. “But those old dudes would never do anything if we weren’t here to bully ‘em.”

Lio can’t help but agree. Under the past Regents, the Council, primarily old Burnish men with little to no scope, was content to pass whatever law was needed to escalate tensions with Parnassus. They are less than thrilled with Lio’s more democratic style of governance.

“I’ll be gone for quite a while, but I won’t be out of contact,” Lio continues. “After the wedding, we’ll be on a tour of sorts around Parnassus. Then we’ll stop several places in Promare, before going back to Promepolis.”

“A victory tour,” Meis mutters bitterly.

“Yes,” Lio glances at him, eyes narrowed, “celebrating our _mutual_ victory over the war our forefathers recklessly started.”

“Yeah, but we’re the only ones who have to let a stranger storm in and run things.”

Lio sighs. “From what I’ve heard, Prince Galo is more interested in storming in and less interested in running things. You don’t have to like him, but remember we’re all making sacrifices.”

“Have you seen him?” Meis asks.

“We haven’t met, you know that.”

“Yeah, but have you _seen _him?”

Lio sighs. “Yes, I’ve seen pictures.”

“I haven’t,” Gueira pipes up. “I’ve got mentions of him blocked.”

“How are you gonna keep up if you do that? Idiot.” Meis shakes his head and slides his phone out of his pocket. “Look at this.”

Lio pulls a few steps ahead while they lean over Meis’s phone.

“Wow, what the—”

“Yeah, talk about bias—”

“And he’s holding a _baby,_ what the hell—”

Oh, the baby picture. Lio clenches his jaw and speeds up. Of course, he’s seen the baby picture, it’s been all over the internet. Predictably, given that Prince Galo is the adopted son and heir to the king of one of the most prosperous nations on earth. The fact that he apparently continues working as a firefighter is gossip-worthy enough, but when you add a highly-publicized recent story about him saving an infant from a burning building, complete with a photograph that perfectly highlights his physique—well, Lio’s been hard-pressed not to block mentions of the prince himself.

“He seems very—” Lio casts about for the right word. “Dedicated.”

“He seems like a piece of work,” Meis mutters, catching up to Lio with a few strides of his longer legs. “Every other day, it’s something like that—or he’s getting in to trouble—”

“And you would know all about getting into trouble, wouldn’t you, Meis?” Lio shoots back pointedly

“That’s different!” Gueira insists, catching up as well. “We haven’t done any of that stuff since you became Regent! This guy’s a prince and apparently he still acts like—”

“He’s still young.”

“You’re still young! We’re all still young!”

Setting aside the fact that Lio hasn’t acted his age in nearly a decade, if he ever did, the point remains that Prince Galo’s behavior doesn’t matter. In fact, the more juvenile he is, the less likely he’ll be interested in actually governing Promare.

“Didn’t you want to marry for, I don’t know—” Guiera continues, waving his hands around vaguely, “—love?”

“It’s all the same to me.”

“What, really?”

“Yes, anyway, after we spend some time in Promepolis, we’ll return to Fennel—”

“Hang on, hang on—” Meis puts a hand to his temple. “You really don’t care about signing your life away like this?”

Lio rounds a corner, emerging into a wide reception area. “I signed my life away when I became Regent.”

“This is different—”

“This is just another duty.”

Guiera hurries ahead to open the door for Lio and the group exits into the parking lot. Dry, arid heat blows Lio’s hair back for a second.

“We have a lot to get done, so I’d appreciate it if we could keep this kind of chatter to a minimum,” Lio says, striding across the sun-baked cement toward the car.

Meis visibly grits his teeth and Guiera scratches the back of his head.

“Good. Now, who’s driving?”

“I am!” they both say at once.

“Wrong.” Lio pulls the keys out of his own pocket and dangles them from his fingers, already rounding the car to the driver’s side. “I am.”

Gueira blanches and pats his pockets. “How did you—”

“Get in or I’ll leave you.”

“Boss!”

* * *

Galo’s fiancé is tiny.

When Regent Lio Fotia steps smoothly out of the special train car that carried him symbolically across the first completed trans-Promare-Parnassus railroad, Galo’s first impression is that a solid breeze could knock him over. His second impression brings green hair cut in a bob, some sort of elaborate leather outfit, and a face so youthful Galo finds himself reviewing his knowledge of Promare’s Regent with a non-zero amount of panic. He’s not actually fourteen or something, is he?

Their first meeting is, of course, a huge press event, and the cameras start clicking as soon as Lio appears, the chatter of the crowd growing hushed before swelling almost unbearably. Lio ignores all of it, walking purposefully across the platform to where Kray and Galo are waiting. His retinue follows a few steps behind, eyeing the gathered people warily.

When Lio is within feet of them, he stops and dips his head respectfully. “King Foresight,” he greets in a voice that’s deeper than Galo expected and quiet in that unhurried way that suggests Lio never has to speak loudly to be listened to.

“Regent Fotia,” Kray returns, smiling. “This marks the first time a Burnish has stepped foot lawfully in the capital of Parnassus in over fifty years, so allow me to be the first to say it: welcome to Promepolis.”

“Thank you. It is an honor to be here.” Lio’s inflection is so smooth and precise, it’s almost impossible for Galo to tell if he’s being serious. Lio’s expression is similarly blank.

“This union represents our hope for the future,” Kray continues, raising his voice a little for the cameras. “So it is my pleasure to introduce you to my son, Galo Thymos.”

At Kray’s gesture, Galo steps forward, sweating in his suit. In his periphery, he can see Varys nodding encouragingly, look preposterous in his security detail uniform. Now, he’s close enough that Lio has to tilt his head up to make eye contact, but as soon as their gazes lock, all impressions of smallness fly out of Galo’s head.

Lio radiates a gravity so intense Galo is shocked he didn’t feel it as soon as Lio stepped off the train. He’s shocked the reporters crowding the door weren’t blown back from the sheer pressure. Galo is more than a head taller and twice as wide, but when Lio looks up at him, he is _leveled_.

“Prince Galo,” Lio says, extending a gloved hand.

Galo starts. “Uh, just Galo, please.” Carefully, he grasps Lio’s hand. His grip completely eclipses Lio’s and he’s suddenly very aware of how damp his palms are.

Lio gives him a small nod. “In that case, you can call me Lio.”

That makes Galo smile, relieved to have gotten the title thing out of the way quickly. “It’s nice to meet you, Lio.”

Lio’s hand twitches in his and he blinks. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

Then the press surges forward, cameras flashing, reporters shouting questions, testing the security barriers, and Kray herds both Galo and Lio in front of him, toward the waiting limousine, smiling diplomatically for the photos. Galo, recovering quickly, beams and waves, blowing kisses as usual. The minimal press attention he received as a popular firefighter skyrocketed after his adoption, but he’s more or less used to it by now.

Lio barely spares the reporters a glance, sliding primly into the limo, accompanied by one of his retinue members, a short woman with bushy brown hair.

After Kray and Galo are inside, Lio introduces the woman as Thyma, his personal assistant, and then spends the whole ride in deep discussion with Kray, about negotiations, about logistics, about the wedding arrangements. Nothing about him betrays any sort of emotion regarding any of it.

Not that Galo is watching too closely. He spends the whole ride deliberately keeping his eyes away from Lio’s elegantly crossed legs, his perfect posture, the sway of his hair.

He stares at the passing scenery and absolutely not at his fiancé sitting across from him.

* * *

Lio’s fiancé is loud.

That is to say, he looks loud. Heavily-styled, bright blue hair and tanned skin shone like a beacon on the arrival platform, loud in a visual way. He was perfectly put together but seemed distinctly unsuited for his formal clothing, his volume poorly contained by a bespoke suit. And the way he moved, like sound waves hitting the interior of his body and bouncing back, all jumbled together.

He didn’t need to speak to make Lio’s ears ring, he only needed to smile, gripping his hand warmly.

There’s an official dinner scheduled for that evening, and non-stop events leading up to the wedding. Lio watches Galo sag in his seat as King Foresight lists them.

In his hotel room before the dinner, Thyma fixes him with a meaningful look.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t be dumb on purpose, Lio.” She takes the shirt he’s holding out of his hands and passes him one with fewer decorative straps because she has no sense of taste. “What do you think of your fiancé? The man you’re about to marry?”

“I’ve barely spoken to him,” Lio mutters, begrudgingly shrugging the shirt over his narrow shoulders.

She crosses her arms, unconvinced.

Lio sighs. “He’s very...loud.”

“Loud?”

“He looks like noise. Happy?”

“No, what does that mean?”

“It means—” Lio focuses on doing up his buttons so he doesn’t have to see Thyma’s scrutinizing stare, “—that we’re getting married no matter what either of us think about the other so there’s no use dwelling on it. He seems perfectly nice, if a little childish.”

She hums. “You two make quite a picture.”

“I’m sure.”

“No, really, look—” she pulls her phone out and scrolls through it. “All of Parnassus has been in a frenzy online since this afternoon. A lot of people seem more on-board with the whole thing now that they’ve seen you. Where is it—oh, here—” she turns the screen to face him and Lio peers at it, adjusting his collar. “This picture is _everywhere_.”

It’s a static shot, surprisingly in focus, given how much the press pool was jostling, that captured the few seconds Galo clasped his hand back on the platform. In profile, the size difference between them is striking, Lio’s head tilted up and Galo’s tilted down to keep each other in sight. Galo is beaming, eyes crinkling at the corners, while Lio stares back, eyes wide, lips parted.

Lio’s eyebrow twitches. He slipped up once, overcome for just a split-second by Prince Galo’s bright smile, and of course someone got it on camera.

The comments under the photo range from racist invective to long strings of heart emojis. He looks away pointedly. “I doubt a nice photo will sway public opinion too far in my favor, Thyma.”

“You’d be surprised.” She slides her phone back into her pocket and takes him by the shoulders, positioning in front of the closet’s floor-length mirror. “You’re cute. That’ll be enough to win over a lot of people.”

Lio wrinkles his nose, watching her reflection analyze and adjust his outfit. “I’m not cute.”

“Sure, Boss.” She produces a comb and runs it through his hair, working it through the knots that tend to form at the base of his neck. “I’m just saying, if you were anyone else, none of those comments would be hearts.”

“It’s going to take more than a pretty face to make the people of Parnassus accept us.” Lio’s brows twitch together as he reminds himself how much more work there is to do.

“Of course, but a pretty face doesn’t hurt.”

The memory of Galo’s wide grin floats across his mind. “I...I suppose not.”

“Anyway, you’ve got a busy two weeks ahead of you—” Thyma continues primping him, explaining all the events he’s expected to appear at leading up to his wedding, as though he hasn’t had this schedule drilled into his head already.

It’s soothing for both of them, he thinks, to review the concrete plans ahead of them. It’s a momentary distraction from the huge, consuming uncertainty laying before them. Promare and Parnassus are at peace, in theory. Border disputes are still ongoing, but dying down more and more with each day, and Lio has Kray’s word that their military will retreat from the disputed areas as soon as possible. All it cost was a few compromises and Lio’s love life, but it’s a small price to pay for his country’s safety.

Lio wonders if Prince Galo feels the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're cordially invited to a state-sponsored wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: stop talking about how small Lio is  
also me: mention it every five paragraphs
> 
> i managed to see Promare 7 times before it left theaters around here. that's the most times i've ever seen anything.

Galo and Lio spend the next two weeks together, but they’re not, like, _really_ together. At least, Galo doesn’t feel like they are.

They’re next to each other all the time, dressed carefully in expensive, reserved clothes and posed in intentionally non-threatening ways for the cameras, the interviewers, the crowds. There are a million people to meet, a million places to visit, a million lenses to aim his face at and smile for. Even though Galo’s never toned himself down for anyone, no matter how much Kray’s PR people begged him to, he forces himself to behave.

This is important, he’s constantly reminded. Just suck it up for a little while longer.

So he does, because he knows it’s important. He knows all of this is the culmination of months of negotiations. So he folds himself up as much as he can and follows Lio’s lead.

They barely speak and they’ve yet to meet each other alone. They haven’t touched since the handshake on the train platform, unless you count the time Lio absently reached up and straightened Galo’s tie right before they walked onstage for an early morning talk show. Galo’s brain was buzzing static for the first third of the interview.

Fortunately, Lio is very capable of covering for his chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome. Sometimes too capable. Suspiciously capable.

“He might be a robot,” Lucia posits, one eye on the glowing keypad in front of her, the other on the TV playing footage from Galo and Lio’s appearance at the Promepolis Central Hospital’s grand re-opening earlier that day.

Galo is taking up the entire couch, feet hanging off the end, staring blankly at the screen, trying to forget that his wedding is in two days. Lucia’s words perk him up a little and he squints at the TV. The volume’s muted, but he can see himself, looking stiff and awkward, reciting lines to a crowd of eager onlookers, the glittering glass doors of the rebuilt hospital behind him. Lio is at his side, staring a little past the camera, perfectly still. But he’s always like that. He moves fluidly but when he’s still, he’s a marble statue.

“No,” Galo says, propping his head up on one hand. “He’s not a robot. He’s like...really warm all the time.”

“You think computers don’t get hot?” Lucia shoves herself back in a way that makes her chair roll over to the couch so she can peer properly at the TV. Vinny scampers from her shoulder to the arm of the couch before leaping into Galo’s (admittedly messy) hair. “He never stutters, never trips. Does he?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” Galo mutters, extracting the mouse and depositing him on the coffee table.

“Anyone would be nervous in his position. But he acts like he was born without emotions.”

Well, that’s not strictly true. Galo wouldn’t claim to be an expert, but he has spent a significant amount of time with Lio recently, even if it was all in public. And he knows that Lio isn’t totally emotionless. He’s seen Lio clench his fists, leather gloves creaking, when an interviewer or reporter or “television personality” says something insensitive about Promare or the Burnish. One that comes up frequently is _your fire magic_. Lio deliberately corrects vocabulary and patiently answers questions about the treaties and his people but Galo can tell he wants to be rude sometimes. He can tell because Galo is familiar with the urge.

Lio is always perfectly in control, but the longer Galo knows him, the more time he spends sitting inches away from him, the more he can feel the undercurrent humming through his small frame. What that undercurrent is, exactly, Galo isn’t sure. Admittedly, he can be a little insensitive to particulars like that, as Aina likes to point out, but there’s something going on in that green head that no one knows about.

Galo just hopes it’s not raging hatred toward him or anything.

“That’s fine,” he responds after maybe a second too long. “I’ve got enough emotion for both of us.” As though to illustrate his point, the TV program cuts to the moment when Galo, momentarily overcome by the crowd’s excitement, cheered directly into the microphone and made the news station’s poor sound guy yank his headphones off in a panic. Galo had felt so bad, he immediately ran offstage to make sure he was okay. Now, watching it all play back, he sees himself wince and vault off the platform, leaving Lio behind.

Lio blinks a few times before turning away, pressing a gloved hand to his mouth. Just as the camera swings away to focus on the reporter, Galo swears he catches sight of a smirk peeking out behind Lio’s fingers.

“Man,” Galo groans, collapsing against the arm of the couch. “He thinks I’m an idiot.”

Lucia hums, prodding his cheek. “You don’t have to be a robot to realize that.”

“I think Kray likes him,” Galo mumbles, groping for the remote and changing the channel to some sort of infomercial. “He smiles a lot when Lio’s around.”

“Kray’s always smiling.”

“Yeah but this smile is different.” Smiling is Kray’s default expression, and Galo is pretty familiar with what each variation means. He’s often on the receiving end of Kray’s most indulgent smile, which never fails to make him feel like a literal toddler trying to run after the big kids. Kray is amazing, and he’s been as much a father to Galo since rescuing him as he knows how to be, but Galo fears he’ll never break past that perception. He’ll always be some dumb kid to Kray. And that’s fine, as long as Kray doesn’t mind. “When Lio talks...Kray really listens to him.”

“I hate to break this to you, Galo—” Lucia leans over him, “—but Lio Fotia is the Regent of an entire country. Kray’s asking for it if he doesn’t listen when Lio talks.”

“I know that,” Galo scowls. “But he doesn’t use his politics face with Lio. He uses his—I don’t know, Lucia!” He jackknifes upright, forcing Lucia to jerk back to avoid a concussion. “I’m not good at this stuff! It’s just different, all right? I don’t really...have the words.”

“Don’t strain yourself.” Lucia purses her lips, leaning back in her chair. “Are you, like, worried that Lio’s gonna replace you?”

Galo pauses running a hand through his hair. “What?”

She holds her hands up defensively. “Kinda seems that way.”

“That’s—that’s stupid, I don’t—” Galo furrows his eyebrows and plants both feet on the floor, bracing his elbows on his knees. Vinny creeps to the edge of the coffee table and sniffs at him. “Am...am I worried about that?” Galo asks quietly. “It’s not like I’m really Kray’s kid, but….”

“Okay, don’t overheat anything in there,” Lucia sighs, clambering off her chair to curl up beside him and tug on the end of one of Galo’s drooping spikes. “A lot of things are happening at once. We all just want to make sure you’re coping, or whatever.”

Galo stares at the ground. Maybe that would explain it. The strange looks Kray keeps sending Lio. He’s never looked at Galo like that, or anyone, as far as Galo knows. Is Kray impressed by Lio? Perhaps wishing his adopted son was more like him? But their arrangement was never particularly familial. Kray adopted Galo right before Galo came of age, and Galo knows it was partly a PR move, but he was grateful nonetheless. Kray had always been the closest thing he had to a safety net, so making that official was a huge relief. Galo isn’t interested in leading the country, but Kray is young and healthy, so the assumption was always that either he would have biological children at some point, or Galo would. And the heir thing had never been a huge deal anyway. It just seemed smarter for them to stick together.

But maybe Kray _wants_ a son who’s smart and polite and eloquent and doesn’t get himself stuck in chimneys. The circumstances surrounding Regent Fotia’s election are fairly hazy, especially for people from an enemy nation, and Promare is pretty tight-lipped about its politics anyway, but it’s obvious that, despite his age, Lio is highly competent and well-suited for his position. His poise and confidence are enviable, so it’s no wonder Kray seems satisfied with him after such a short acquaintance. Maybe if Galo acted more like a good son, Kray would act...more like a dad….

A wordless shout rips its way out of Galo’s throat and he shoves himself to his feet, sending Vinny scamering backward and Lucia toppling sideways. “Who cares about that!” he shouts, pumping both fists in the air. “I’m King Foresight’s son! And soon, Lio will be too! So Kray will have the best of both worlds!”

He jogs in a circle to shake off his gloom and Lucia watches him with interest. “Guess you’re doing fine,” she mutters.

Vinny squeaks in response.

* * *

Despite all his preparation, the wedding sneaks up on Lio.

The night before, on his holocall with Guiera and Meis, one of them asks something about “the ceremony tomorrow” and Lio’s brain blares static for a good ten seconds.

“—oss? Boss?”

Lio blinks and finds himself staring at his hands, fisted on top of the desk. He looks back up at the holoscreen. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Meis frowns and Gueira pushes his face closer to the camera. “Boss, is something wrong?”

Giving himself a mental shake, Lio forces himself to focus. “No, everything’s fine. It’s just been a busy week.”

“I’ll bet,” Gueira snorts. “They’ve got you running all over the place, cutting ribbons and kissing babies and shit. Guarded heavily, no doubt.”

“They’re trying to be subtle about it, at least,” Lio sighs. He’d refused a personal security detail, confident that he or Thyma could deal with any civilian threats, but general security was still present, and their anti-Burnish weaponry hadn’t escaped Lio’s notice, despite their attempts to conceal them.

“So how’s your fiancé?” Meis asks, setting aside his notes.

“The same as the last time we spoke.”

“So, stupid and making you look bad.”

“I did not say that,” Lio scowls.

Gueira sits back a little to exchange glances with Meis. “It was implied.”

“Meis, were you saying something earlier?” Lio attempts to get the conversation back on track. He doesn’t really want to talk about Galo right now.

“Nothing important.” Meis narrows his eyes. “You sure you’re okay, Boss? You look a little pale.”

Lio sits back in his chair hard enough that he feels it creak under him. “I’m fine. I’m not in withdrawal yet, I’m just a little tired.”

“Wait—” Gueira jerks forward and the image shakes slightly. “You haven’t started withdrawal yet? Boss, it’s been two weeks—”

“This is normal,” Lio assures him. “The last time I left Promare, it took about this long as well.”

Guiera shakes his head. “That’s crazy, dude. Everytime I leave Fennel, I get a head cold.”

“Well, that’s why he’s the boss, and you’re not,” Meis smirks.

Lio deliberately doesn’t mention that when the withdrawal starts, it will be far worse than a head cold. “Is there anything else? I don’t want to cut our talk short, but it’s late and—”

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re getting married in the morning.” Guiera waves his hand. “Gotta look sparkly for the cameras.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Seriously, Boss—” Meis nudges Gueira out of frame, ignoring his squawking. “Is everything alright? You can always back out, you know.”

_Back out_. A laugh nearly bubbles out of Lio’s throat but he swallows it at the last second, sitting forward to fix the holoscreen with a steady gaze. “Everything is fine. Things are progressing smoothly and I am doing well. You two have been invaluable to me during this hectic time. Thank you.”

Predictably, Meis and Gueira both blush and start sputtering and Lio uses their distraction to end the conversation: “I’ll call you again after the ceremony.” Then he cuts the call.

Silence instantly consumes the small hotel suite office and Lio basks in it. Peace has been a rare commodity over the past few days. Everyone needs something from him: a statement, an interview, a signature, a photo, requests and events and chatter swirling together into one huge, tightly scheduled whirlwind. In fact, he’s barely known silence since the day he became Regent, thrust into the midst of a rapidly re-escalating conflict and desperately searching for ways to keep his people safe.

The former Regent and the Council seemed to think Promare’s victory was inevitable, given their innate abilities, and were uninvested in peace talks, but Lio knew better. He knew the technical strides Parnassus was making in anti-Burnish weaponry, his spies informing him of plans for wide-range ice beams, impenetrable freezing rings, and even a carbon-based metal capable of completely severing a Burnish’s connection to the Core, rendering them unable to heal. Promare may have had the advantage in brute strength, but given enough time, Parnassus would have annihilated them. Lio couldn’t allow that to happen.

And now he’s here, preparing to marry one of the most ridiculous people he’s ever met.

At the thought, Lio lowers his forehead to rest on the desk. He is trying very hard not to have an opinion about Galo. It’s a struggle, because Lio is very naturally opinionated (stubborn, his detractors call him), and Galo inspires a very instinctive reaction in him. He’s not sure exactly what to call that reaction, but it’s undeniable. It’s like irritation but a little to the left.

He can tell that Galo’s been trying to behave over the past two weeks, and he appreciates it, but it’s painfully obvious that none of this political stuff is in Galo’s nature. Galo practically vibrates with restless energy at all times, manifesting as a bouncing leg in Lio’s periphery, drumming fingers against the podium, too-loud laughter that he can’t seem to contain. It’s...distracting. More distracting than it should be.

Lio has always been steadfast in his motivations, willing to do anything and take any path to achieve his goals, and now his path dictates that he must walk it with Prince Galo. His future has never been so uncertain.

“Lio?” A soft knock accompanies Thyma’s concerned voice and Lio raises his head to see her hovering in the office doorway. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

“You had your head down.”

“Just resting my eyes.” Lio rises and stretches his arms over his head, wincing as his spine pops in multiple places.

“You should go to bed properly. You’re getting married tomorrow. Or did you forget?”

“Trust me, I have not forgotten.” He gathers his materials from the desk, glancing at the notifications popping up on his tablet. A few news bulletins about the wedding and a passive-aggressive message from Meis.

“You don’t want shadows under your eyes for the pictures.”

“I’m going to look the way I look, Thyma. A few hours of sleep isn’t going to change anything.”

“Right, right.” She bustles over and takes a folder out of his hands, scooping the remaining papers into it. “Well, I’m in charge of your schedule and I say it’s bedtime.”

Lio watches her absently. “Thyma, do you miss your old job?”

She cuts him a perplexed look. “What brought that up?”

“Just...thinking about how things have changed.”

“Don’t think too hard,” she giggles. “You’ll get frown lines.” Herding him out of the office, she shuts the lights off, then heads for her laptop, set up on the breakfast bar. “I don’t miss it. I liked being a scientist, but I like this too, and I like being able to help you directly, Boss.”

Lio watches as she industriously files his notes with the rest of his materials. Thyma was working at a Core research facility when Lio contacted her about deciphering some technical plans one of his spies had sent him. She was nervous about talking to him, since he was a known figure by then and the political climate in Promare was starting to crack, but she came through and volunteered to help again if the need arose. It did, and soon her patient professionalism and technical knowledge became invaluable in Lio’s campaign. Slowly, she became more and more involved, and, after his election she took it upon herself to manage his suddenly-packed schedule. Despite her lack of experience as a PA, she took to the job quickly and now Lio can’t imagine navigating this minefield without her.

“I’m very grateful that you’re here, Thyma.”

She freezes with her back to him. Turning, she regards him critically. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Lio huffs.

Smiling, she crosses to him. “Just kidding.” She raises a hand and pats his cheek gently. “I’m grateful I can be here, too. We’re making history, Lio. Tomorrow is the beginning of something no one ever anticipated.”

The wedding will finalize the treaty between Promare and Parnassus, ending a conflict that everyone assumed would go on until one side was completely decimated. The price Lio is paying is negligible in comparison to that.

He catches her hand and holds it in his own. “Thank you.”

“We’re all behind you, Lio.”

Somewhere inside, a support beam collapses, and a weight Lio’s been trying to ignore crashes all at once down on his shoulders. He slumps, hanging his head. His grip on Thyma’s hand tightens. “I...I won’t let you down.”

“We know you won’t.” Thyma squeezes back.

His people are depending on him, watching him back in Promare and counting on his ability to maintain peace with their greatest military enemy. Meanwhile, Parnassus is hanging on his every action, every word, waiting for a slip-up, some reason to call the whole thing off. He won’t give them one.

If this is what it takes to save Promare, he’ll do it a million times over.

* * *

Galo barely remembers the morning before the ceremony.

It’s all a blur of stylists and limos and photos and Aina standing next to him the whole time, firmly nudging him in the correct direction. And Galo doesn’t really feel like an active participant. This is happening, and it’s happening to him, but he’s just watching.

He thinks Lio can tell he’s not entirely with the program. He seems jumpy and tight in the limousine on the way to the venue, but Galo isn’t really in a state of mind to ponder Lio’s behavior, too focused on not throwing up all over his exorbitantly expensive suit.

The crowd turnout is huge, thousands of people clogging the streets outside the venue, ready to camp out and watch the ceremony on the huge screen erected for this exact reason. Only a select number of people will be present in the building for the wedding itself, but Galo never paid attention to the guest list. His team would be there, as guests and security, and Kray would be officiating, but that’s all he knows.

Clenching his sweaty fists, Galo slides a nervous look at Lio, sitting across from him and listening tersely to something Thyma is whispering to him. He doesn’t seem to have any family present, and of his retinue, only Thyma treats him familiarly. Galo realizes with a start that he doesn’t even know if Lio _has _any family.

Lio glances up, catches Galo’s eye. “Is something wrong?”

Galo starts. “Uh—sorry, I didn’t mean to—” and then because his mouth and brain aren’t connected, he asks: “Do you, um, have any family here today?”

Lio blinks and Thyma grimaces, eyes flicking between them. The sinking feeling in Galo’s gut tells him he just said something really stupid.

“I mean—”

“I don’t,” Lio answers smoothly. “My biological family is all gone.”

_Like me_. The thought rises to the surface of Galo’s hazy mind. “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—uh….”

“It’s alright.” Lio tilts his head, hair swaying with the motion, and fixes him with that pale, piercing stare. “All of Promare is my family now.”

Before Galo can respond, the limo slows to a stop, and those are the last words Lio and Galo exchange as unmarried people.

Galo doesn’t feel wholly present in his own body until about halfway through the ceremony itself. Kray is going on in that eloquent way of his about the future and the peace promised by this union and suddenly Galo slams back into himself.

His suit is restrictive, stifling; his shoes are too tight and he itches to shift his weight, to release the abrupt flood of restlessness washing over him, but the huge ballroom is full of people, full of cameras, all focused on him, freezing him in place. He tries to concentrate on Kray, standing in front of him on a dais and holding court with a rehearsed speech, but he can’t get his thoughts in order. He presses his lips together, gritting his teeth, and his hands curl into fists at his sides.

Beside him, Lio shifts slightly, almost imperceptibly, but to Galo’s scattered brain, it’s a flurry of movement that draws his attention instantly. A glance to the side shows him Lio standing rigidly at his side, focus forward, chin raised. They’re so close that Galo can feel the supernatural radiant heat of Lio’s body through his sleeve. Then something brushes the back of Galo’s closed hand and he barely manages not to jump, so tightly-wound that even the gentle touch nearly sends him through the ceiling. Keeping as still as possible, Galo peeks downward to see Lio’s slender, gloved index finger extended just enough to tap Galo’s hand.

The touch lingers just long enough for Galo to register it, then retracts. But Galo’s attention stays. He looks back at Kray, but all of his energy seems to crystallize in Lio’s direction, the place Lio touched burning like a brand and completely erasing the rest of the room.

Lio’s steadiness beside him helps him make it through the rest of the ceremony. He even remembers all of the words he’s supposed to say.

As strange as the whole thing is, and even though everyone knows it’s a political contract, a wedding is a wedding, and before he knows it, Galo is turning to face Lio while Kray announces the words he’s been dreading:

“Now the union will be sealed with a kiss.”

Galo’s heart pounds. He didn’t exactly _forget_ that the kiss was coming, but he deliberately kept his mind away from it as long as he could. But now Lio is looking up at him, and he’s too short to reach on his own, so it falls to Galo to...uh….

Swallowing hard, Galo takes a deep breath and reaches for Lio’s hands. The leather of his gloves is soft against Galo’s clammy skin. Lio blinks at the action. Steeling himself against the nervous throbbing in his chest, Galo leans down as Lio pushes up to meet him.

Galo has half a second to note how long Lio’s eyelashes are before he slams his own eyes shut against the sight, blood rushing in his ears. The press of Lio’s lips against his is gentle, just firm enough to be classified as a kiss, and scorching.

For one, suspended instant, the heat consumes everything else.

Then Lio is pulling back and Galo is straightening up and the crowd is applauding. Galo glances at Kray to find him smiling, nodding, pleased. He avoids looking at Lio as they turn to face the audience, hands detangling to wave at the cameras.

His team is the first to stand, clapping and gazing at him with identical expressions of pride. It’s almost enough to make him feel better.

There’s a reception, because of course there is, and Galo stands in the receiving line beside Lio, shaking hands and accepting well-wishes. A few times, he notices people hesitating to shake Lio’s hand before realizing he’s wearing gloves and going through with it. Lio doesn’t seem to care, but it makes Galo frown.

Most of the guests want to thank them, expressing their gratitude and relief at how smooth the proceedings are going with flowery language, and after the first dozen people, Galo is twitching. Briefly, he wonders how different this would be if he was getting married for, like, _love_ reasons. If the man standing beside him was his best friend and partner, instead of an unyielding pillar of blank faces and stiff words.

Then a particularly effusive man finally finishes his congratulatory speech and moves on and Lio glances up at Galo, rolling his eyes so quickly that for a second Galo thinks he imagined it. But there’s a tiny smirk quirking the corner of Lio’s mouth and something in Galo’s stomach flutters.

That’s right. He may not know Lio very well, but, from now on, they’re in this together. Whatever happens, they’re married now. Galo isn’t alone. What that means, he’ll figure out later, but for now, he has people to greet.

* * *

The ceremony took place in the parliament building’s most expansive ballroom, dozens of stories in the air, and that was bad enough in Lio’s opinion.

Buildings in Promare never reach the ridiculous heights that the people of Parnassus seem so fond of, since the Burnish share an instinctive connection to the Core beneath their feet. The Promepolis parliament building had, admittedly, shocked Lio a little upon first sight, with its towering height and strange, top-heavy geometry, but he wasn’t necessarily afraid of heights, so he didn’t object to holding the ceremony there.

Now, in an almost identical ballroom as the one earlier, nearly two dozen stories higher, Lio is wishing he’d reconsidered.

The view from the 360 degree, floor-to-ceiling windows is dizzying enough without the constant chatter and bustle and activity of the reception. Fortunately, no one expects him to do much beyond stand beside Galo and not look like he’s dying. He can manage that.

Every once in a while, he catches sight of Thyma, at first alone, and then with a rotating assortment of what he understands is Galo’s Burning Rescue teammates. She seems to be getting along with them, so he leaves her to it.

The rest of his retinue, mostly political advisors and analysts, hover on the fringes. He barely knows them anyway, so he ignores them.

Galo, for all his nerves and stiffness during the ceremony, slowly loosens up, like a volume knob steadily edging higher and higher until he’s laughing loudly at every stilted joke and excitedly babbling with the guests he knows personally.

At the very least, it’s distracting.

There’s a dinner that Lio barely tastes and speeches that Lio barely hears. Every round of cheers just serves to remind him that this is for everyone else. The spectacle and theatre of the ceremony and the party is to give the people some tangible proof of the treaty and he tries to remember that his people are watching as well. Here, hundreds of feet in the air and hundreds of miles away, Promare feels very distant.

He keeps expecting Galo to run off, to go be with his friends and leave Lio to deal with the guests, but he never does. He stays nearly glued to Lio’s side the entire evening. They don’t really talk to each other, or even look at each other beyond a few brief glances, but Galo stays put. His friends don’t really approach them beyond the customary well-wishes either, and Lio wonders if his presence makes them uncomfortable until Galo leans over while waving at the short blonde girl across the room.

“I want to introduce you to them properly,” he says in Lio’s ear. “Without—all of this—” he gestures broadly to the busy room.

“I see,” Lio responds, even though he doesn’t see and he didn’t ask.

Galo leans back, leaving Lio feeling oddly cold.

Then the musicians start pointedly tuning their instruments and the crowd clears a space in the middle of the room. When Lio looks up at him, Galo is blushing furiously and avoiding his eyes.

Something about Galo’s intense reactions to everything makes it harder for Lio to turn his brain off. He fully intended to complete the ceremony on auto-pilot, but Galo’s obvious distress had inspired him to action before he was even fully aware of what he was doing. And then the kiss was...was….

“They want us to dance,” Lio mutters, casting a look at the gathering, expectant crowd.

“I know!” Galo whispers back. “I’m just...preparing myself.”

Before he can tell Galo to speed up his preparations, the first notes of whatever pretentious instrumental piece the wedding planners picked out ring through the hall and Lio catches Kray’s eye from across the room. Kray, smile unwavering, waves a hand, as though to say _go on, then_.

Lio grits his teeth and grabs Galo’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“Oh—okay!”

When they reach the center of the dancefloor, they hesitate simultaneously, hands hovering.

“Alright, okay, I got this—” Galo is muttering, seemingly to himself. “I’ve—I’ve practiced this.”

Lio swallows the rude quip on the tip of his tongue. But he really wants to say it.

“Can I lead?” Galo asks, looking down at Lio through his lashes, eyebrows pinched nervously.

Lio blinks, surprised that Galo thought to ask. He’s so much bigger that it should seem like a foregone conclusion, but Galo’s expression is genuinely curious.

“You may,” Lio answers after a beat.

Galo’s face breaks into a smile. “Cool,” he says on an exhale. “‘Cuz, I—uh—practiced with Aina, and I only know the—anyway—” one of his hands settles on Lio’s waist and Lio instinctively steps closer, placing his own hand on Galo’s shoulder. It’s a bit of a reach. “You can lead next time,” Galo continues, linking their free hands with a wink.

Whatever Lio meant to say in response dies in his throat and he almost stumbles as Galo leads them into the first steps. He doesn’t, of course, but the uncharacteristic unsteadiness lingers in his thoughts.

The crowd watches hawkishly as Galo and Lio spin and sway on the empty dancefloor. Lio keeps his gaze somewhere above Galo’s shoulder and Galo is very obviously trying not to look at his feet.

Even though his experience with dancing is limited, Lio can tell Galo is not a talented dancer, but his earnestness makes up for it. He mostly keeps time and doesn’t step on Lio, which is all Lio could ask for. The music swells and Galo spins Lio out, arms extended and beaming like he's actually having a good time.

As Galo reels him back in, Lio can't help but smile back.

After a few minutes, Kray escorts a female parliamentarian onto the floor, opening the floodgates for everyone else to start dancing as well. Now, at least, Lio and Galo aren't being gawked at as much and Lio can relax slightly. Additionally, with more people around them, they can slow down, and Lio allows Galo to settle them into a simpler combination, little more than turning in place.

"How'd I do?" Galo asks, smiling down at Lio, face flushed.

Lio opens his mouth to say something acerbic, closes it, tries again: "Decently."

Galo laughs. "Yeah, that's about as good as I'll ever get. Lucia suggested I pretend to be sick to get out of dancing, but I wasn't gonna back down!" Perhaps unconsciously, Galo's grip on Lio tightens, spanning farther across his back and nearly crushing his hand.

"That's...very admirable."

Another laugh, quieter this time and aimed into the space between them. "You're so stiff all the time." Lio bristles, but Galo is still speaking: "You know, I think this is the first time we've actually spoken alone. I mean, we're not _alone_ alone—" he glances at the crowd swirling around them, "—but no one's actively listening to us."

Lio cuts his eyes to the crowd as well. "That's true." How ironic that their first personal conversation is taking place after their actual wedding. "Although I wouldn't recommend saying anything you wouldn't want to be overheard." When he looks back, Galo is still smiling, eyes twinkling.

"No chance of that," he says. "I'm a pretty open book."

Yes, and that’s part of the problem. Lio expects them to lapse into silence, but Galo apparently still isn’t done talking.

“What’s Promare like?”

Lio squints up at him. “You’ll be there soon enough to see for yourself.”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t really know anything about it, so I just thought….”

He seems genuine enough, if a little sheepish, and Lio considers him for a beat. “It’s hot,” he concedes. “And very dry. I assume you know basic geographical information?”

“Uh, kind of.”

“It’s smaller than Parnassus and the population is more centralized.

“Yeah, don’t, like, eighty percent of Burnish live in the capital?”

“Yes, our culture is very localized.”

“Must be hard being away from home.”

Lio’s heard similar sentiments hundreds of times over the past two weeks, always with an underlying snark, a faux sympathy, but now, when Lio looks at Galo, all he sees is sincerity. Unease flutters in his chest.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says quickly. “You should be thinking about yourself.”

Galo groans. “Right. I still need to pack.”

“You know we leave in—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sighing, Galo steers them into a halfway competent turn. “That’s all anyway talks to me about these days. The _schedule_.”

Given how many events Galo has nearly been late to over the past two weeks, Lio thinks he could stand to hear a little more about the _schedule_.

“But anyway—” Galo continues, “—it’s not like I won’t be able to come back to visit.”

True. Ostensibly, if relations between Parnassus and Promare improve, border protections will relax. Migration policies are already being drafted, and travel between the two should be more or less free, even for people who aren’t technically royalty. Realistically, Lio can’t imagine many Parnassans deciding to move to Promare, and Burnish are quite literally connected to their land, but the possibility exists, and the rail line will make movement quick and easy. “Right.”

“I’ll probably be too busy to be homesick anyway.” Galo smiles, eyes crinkling, right at Lio, and that flicker of unease intensifies.

Before Lio can respond, the music flourishes to a stop and the room stills, couples breaking apart to face them and applaud.

Lio and Galo drift to a halt, but Galo doesn’t step back.

“Uh, this—I—” he stammers, face red. “Aina told me to—uh—do—do this—” He removes his hand from Lio’s waist, but instead of releasing him entirely, he raises their still joined hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to Lio’s knuckles.

Sirens blare in Lio’s head as the crowd murmurs and giggles.

Dropping Lio’s hand, Galo smiles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just—I thought—”

“It’s fine,” Lio says shortly. “I’m going to go sit down.” He spins around and stalks off before Galo can say anything. As he leaves, Galo’s pink-haired teammate, presumably Aina, sidles up to Galo, hissing _I was kidding, you idiot!_

The unease is roiling in his gut now, similar to the trepidation one feels on the edge of a cliff. Galo’s behavior, the way he looks at Lio...it spells trouble and it makes Lio’s head pound as he sinks into a seat at the edge of the room.

A few tables away, Thyma catches his eye and tilts her head questioningly but he waves her off. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now; his head hurts too much.

A shiver rattles through him and he fists his hands in his lap. Before the dance, he felt fine, but now his skin is tight, uncomfortable, and there’s a cold weight in his bones. It’s probably the withdrawal, he realizes with a jolt. The stress and adrenaline from the past two weeks helped him hold out until now, but now that the papers are signed and the hardest part is over, he’s crashing and his body is finally picking up on the fact that he’s not in Promare any more.

He should make his excuses and leave before someone realizes something is wrong. The music is shifting, so now would be a good time—

As though summoned by Lio’s thoughts, the broad, white-suited figure of King Foresight materializes in front of him.

“Regent,” he smiles as Lio looks up at him. “I simply must have at least one dance with you.” He extends a hand.

Lio does some quick calculations. He really doesn’t feel up to it, but he can manage, and refusing Kray presents its own set of challenges. So, with a curt nod, he places his hand in Kray’s, black leather against white fabric, and allows Kray to lead him back onto the dancefloor.

The swell of the music isn’t enough to drown out the rustling of the crowd, and Lio can feel hundreds of eyes on him as he and Kray take up their positions. Everyone watched when he danced with Galo, but something about Galo’s proximity made it easy to ignore the stares. Galo drowns them out. Kray draws them in, amplifying them until they burn Lio’s skin like hundreds of miniature spotlights.

Kray makes no overtures of politeness by requesting to lead like Galo had. His grip on Lio’s waist is textbook but the size of his hand, larger even than Galo’s, makes it feel restrictive. And Kray is uncomfortably warm. Perhaps it’s his bulk, or Lio’s own dropping body temperature, or maybe Kray just runs hot, but even through several layers of clothing, Lio can feel the places they’re connected with an awareness he doesn’t like.

Kray is a better dancer than Galo, but he’s taller, wider, and Lio very much feels like he’s being steered with no input around the dancefloor. But he shouldn’t keep comparing Kray to Galo. Lio frowns when he catches himself noting the differences in Kray and Galo’s cologne choices.

(He vastly prefers Galo’s fresh, woodsy scent to Kray’s deep, musky tones.)

“I couldn’t be more pleased with how everything is progressing,” Kray says after a moment of silent, competent dancing.

“All thanks to your efforts,” Lio replies diplomatically, flashing his teeth in a polite smile.

“Please don’t sell yourself short. None of this would have happened without your steadfast commitment to peace.”

Lio’s fingers twitch minutely as he recalls one of his more panicked phone calls with Thyma, in the early days of his campaign.

_This shouldn’t be possible,_ she whispered hoarsely. _But those files you sent—they look like plans for a...a chain freezing bullet. If I’m reading this right, it freezes by absorbing body heat, so—so—_

_There’d be no escape_, Lio realized with dawning horror. _You would suffer and suffer until—_

_I can’t believe Foresight Labs has this kind of technology!_

Now, he looks into the serene face of the owner and creative mind behind Foresight Labs, with blueprints and briefings and secret plans flashing before his eyes, and says, “We have all made sacrifices.”

Kray spins them and Lio catches sight of Galo through the crowd, hard to miss with his bright blue hair, laughing as a wide man with a handlebar mustache leads him in an off-tempo waltz. “All of us,” he mutters absently.

Kray is, unfortunately, paying attention, and follows his gaze. “I suppose it’s very fortuitous that I decided to adopt Galo. I think you’ll get on much better with him than you would with me.”

It’s a joke, and Kray’s expression is appropriately teasing, but Lio’s eye twitches. “I think you’re right.”

Kray chuckles like a politician, the sound so far removed from Galo’s echoing, full-body laughter that Lio can still hear from across the hall. “You don’t hold back, do you, Regent Fotia?”

“Believe me, I do, King Foresight.”

“You can be a little more familiar now. I am your father-in-law, after all.”

The words alone nearly make him gag. “You’ll have to excuse my formality. I will not be adjusting it.”

Kray’s eyes twinkle. “You are excused, of course. I would never call upon you to _pretend_ to be anyone but who you are.”

Lio’s breath freezes in his lungs.

Kray goes on: “I suspect things are going to get very interesting now. The hard part is over in the eyes of the government, but the people….” he clicks his tongue. “I trust you’ll make good use of your honeymoon tour.”

“Of course,” Lio forces out. The treaty is signed, hostilities have ceased, but the citizens have lived through generations of war. It’s a part of both Parnassus and Promare’s national identity. That will take more than a few signatures on a piece of paper to undo. That will take work. And it’s one of the major reasons the marriage was proposed in the first place. The people need concrete evidence, something undeniable.

Lio hopes it will be enough.

“And I trust you will make good use of our absence,” Lio says pointedly, tilting his chin up to look Kray directly in the eye.

Kray’s smile stretches wider. “Of course.”

The song warbles to a stop and Kray stills them, stepping back to offer Lio a polite bow. Lio ducks his head for the benefit of their audience, but before he can back away, Kray leans in.

“Perhaps you should get some rest, Regent,” he whispers in Lio’s ear. “You look a little pale.”

Lio stares at him as he walks away.

* * *

The party seems to be winding down a little, the guests satisfied after the spectacle of seeing Lio dance with Galo _and_ the king, but Galo isn’t ready to turn in yet.

When he spies Lio’s green head weaving toward the door, he hurries to catch up with him.

“Lio—” he taps Lio’s shoulder to get his attention and Lio jumps, whipping around. “Whoa—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lio blinks at him like he’s an alien, wide purple eyes deepened by the sunset on display outside the windows, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s alright. Did you need something?”

“Oh, I—uh—” he jabs a finger at the dancefloor behind him, still decently occupied. “I was wondering if we could—one more time—” he smiles nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I asked the band to play something slower, so I think I’ll do better this time.”

Brows furrowed, Lio looks between him and the dancefloor, and Galo’s spent enough time around him to recognize that Lio is weighing his options.

“Is something wrong?” Galo asks, abruptly remembering that Lio was trying to leave a second ago. “Do you have to go somewhere? Are you tired? Oh shit, I didn’t—”

“I’m fine,” Lio cuts in firmly. “It’s fine. Yes, let’s dance again.”

“Oh—okay!” Galo beams and takes Lio by the hand. He saw Kray leading Lio earlier and it looked very manly, but Lio seems a little touchy, so Galo falls into step beside him as they head back to the dancefloor. “You sure? We don’t have to—”

“I’m sure.”

The music glides into something softer, gentler and Galo pulls Lio close, determined to make up for his clumsy performance earlier. Lio reaches up and rests a hand on Galo’s shoulder. It feels a little heavier than earlier. Maybe Lio really is tired.

Galo sets a slow pace, concentrating on matching his steps to the beat, and Lio follows smoothly. If he isn’t feeling well, he doesn’t show it, face impassive and movements easy, but, oddly, he feels cooler than usual.

Standing beside Lio is like standing next to a small, compact furnace. His radius is small, but if you get close enough, you can feel how warm he runs. Now, however, Galo can’t feel that vague singe.

“Remi told me—” Galo starts, trying to break the strange silence between them, “—that it’s more about the rhythm than the steps.”

“He’s probably right. I don’t have much dance experience.”

“What?” Galo’s voice pitches up before he can stop it and Lio’s eyes widen. He grimaces, ducking his head slightly. “I mean—you look so good. _Dancing_, I mean. You look good dancing.”

Lio purses his lips. “I’m just getting lead around. I’m not doing any of the work.”

“Nah, dude, you even made me look decent earlier. You got this.” Galo smiles, swaying into a turn.

Lio glances away, and it’s hard to tell in the twilight illumination, but Galo is pretty sure he sees a dusting of red on Lio’s cheeks. “Thank you. You are doing better this time as well.”

Galo laughs. “You think so? Watch this—” Just like Ignis showed him, he plants his feet and sweeps Lio into a dip, too quickly for Lio to resist.

Lio sucks in a surprised breath and his grip on Galo tightens. “Galo!” he hisses.

“Sorry!” Galo pulls Lio back to his feet and resumes their steady pace. “I couldn’t resist. Pretty smooth, huh?”

“It wasn’t even on-tempo,” Lio mutters. His hair is a little fluffier from the quick movement.

“That doesn’t matter!”

“You just said—” Lio breaks off on a huff.

“As long as it looks cool,” Galo insists. “That’s what matters.”

Lio rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth turns up in an unwilling smile. “Of course you would think that.”

“Hey, we gotta give ‘em some good photos, huh?” Galo jerks his head toward the the selected photographers still camped around the room who aren’t even bothering to hide the rapid clicking of their cameras. Some of the guests have their phones out as well, unapologetically filming. When he looks back at Lio, he’s frowning. “Lio?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Lio says, so quietly that Galo almost doesn’t hear him, eyes fixed blankly on Galo’s chest.

“What do you mean?” Galo slows his steps, allowing them to fall into a simple swaying motion. “Do what?”

“This pretending thing.” Lio finally looks back up at him, and his gaze is cold steel. It actually takes Galo aback. “If you can’t keep it up, don’t start.”

Galo furrows his brows, confused, and leans down slightly. “What are you talking about? Pretending thing? Did I do something wrong?”

“Please—” Lio’s hands twitch on Galo instinctively tightens his grip in response. “It’s nice of you, but you don’t have to pretend to like me.”

The room tilts sideways a little. “What?”

“No one is expecting us to get along,” Lio continues, although Galo barely catches it, busy trying to keep his footing. “As long as we get our jobs done, you don’t have to keep this up. It will be better for both of us if you don’t burn yourself out.”

“Burn...myself out?”

“So, I appreciate it, but you can stop.”

The music fades on a single, lingering note, and Lio flashes him a rehearsed-looking smile before pulling away. Galo lets him, unresisting as Lio slides out of his hands. His arms fall limply at his sides, eyes fixed on Lio’s retreating back until he disappears into the crowd.

When the band strikes up again, Galo doesn’t hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter coming! at some point!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe married people should communicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna see promare again in december! i'm way more excited than i should be considering how many times i've seen it already lol. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Lio’s tablet is cluttered with notifications when he powers it on in his hotel room. Some well-wishes from the friendlier members of the Council, supportive messages from Gueira and Meis, and dozens of mentions on social media.

It seems like the images from the wedding have gone viral already, and Lio’s chest clenches nervously as he unwillingly scrolls through the top stories.

They’re pretty much what he expected, thankfully: professional shots of him and Galo standing in front of Kray. Galo’s anxiety isn’t visible in the photos, even though it blared at Lio like an alarm bell throughout most of the ceremony. And it doesn’t look like anyone caught Lio’s covert attempt to comfort him.

The posts aren’t sorted chronologically, so Lio scrolls past dozens of shots from the day before landing on one that makes his stomach flip. He really has to hand it to the photographer for managing to keep the kiss from looking as forced and awkward as it felt. The photo is a half-body, so you can’t see Lio literally standing on his toes like a child, and captured the exact moment his and Galo’s lips brushed. Both of their eyes are closed, Galo’s head tilted just slightly, and the lighting is just right. Again, a credit to the photographer.

It’s strange to see that moment from the outside. He had felt so tense and alien during the entire ceremony, so these pictures kind of feel like the first time he’s really experiencing the whole thing.

The kiss photo seems to be very popular, and Lio scrolls past dozens of the same shot before he starts seeing images of the reception. There’s more Kray in this batch, and more solo shots of all of them. Lio passes a few photos of Galo dancing with his Burning Rescue teammates and struggles to keep his gaze from lingering on Galo’s bright smile.

The same smile is present in several of the images from his own dances with Galo, wide enough to fool most people into thinking he’s actually having a good time, but Lio knows better. Still, it’s hard to keep his own lips from twitching up at Galo’s excited expression as he dips a surprised-looking Lio.

The dip photo is apparently also popular, and Lio quickly passes a few gif versions, blushing at the repeating sight of Galo swinging him around effortlessly and his own comically stunned face.

When he comes across a picture of Kray leading him to the dancefloor, he decides that’s enough and powers the device off, dropping it onto the sofa and rubbing his eyes. His head is throbbing and there’s an icy wrongness congealing in his bones, the familiar sensation of being separated from the Core. He supposes he should count himself lucky; it held off long enough to get the ceremony over with, and it would be real hell to deal with while traveling. Now he just hopes it ends quickly and doesn’t delay their departure in two days.

Thyma is still at the reception, smoothing over some last-minute details with Kray’s people, and Lio rubs his temples, considering contacting her. No, he should just go to bed, he decides when he can’t contain a full-body shiver. He’ll leave her a note for when she gets back.

Before he can locate a notepad, a series of loud knocks echoes through the suite, and Lio looks sharply at the door.

Running through his mental schedule, Lio can’t recall anything else he’s supposed to do today, no one he’s supposed to meet. The reception should have been the end of it, and he let the proper people know he was leaving, so who—?

Hesitantly, Lio crosses to the door and peers through the peephole. The distorted image of two crossed arms greets him, the rest of the person too tall to appear even through the fish-eye lens, but Lio can just see the ends of a bright blue mohawk drooping into view.

Lio leans back slightly, hands flat on the door, brow furrowed. What is Galo doing here? He releases the door’s several locks and pulls it open, one fist on his hip, looking up at Galo expectantly. “Do you need something?”

Galo blinks a little at the sight of him, uncrossing his arms. He ditched his suit jacket at some point, and apparently popped the top few buttons on his dress shirt. Given what Lio’s heard about him up till now, he’s surprised Galo has kept a shirt on at all.

“I—I—yes, I—” Galo stammers, seeming inordinately wrong-footed for someone who ostensibly came all the way here to see Lio. “I need...to talk to you.” His voice firms up a bit as he visibly composes himself.

Lio doesn’t really have the energy to deal with Galo right now, but what if something’s wrong? What if he refuses and Galo tattles to Kray? Sighing, he steps aside. “Please make it quick.”

“I’ll try,” Galo grumbles, brushing past Lio and into the suite.

After closing and relocking the door, Lio returns to the living room to find Galo standing there, twitching and staring around restlessly. “Alright, what is it?”

Galo looks down at his feet before jerking his head up to stare right at Lio. “What did you mean earlier?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Lio perches on the arm of the couch, trying to hide how much his legs are shaking. “What are you referring to?”

“You—when you said that I...didn’t have to pretend—” a muscle in Galo’s jaw jumps, “—what did you mean?”

“I thought I spoke quite plainly.” Lio crosses his arms. “I meant that it’s best if you don’t pretend this relationship is anything other than what it is. I understand that this is probably a very emotionally confusing time, but trying to fool yourself will only backfire on all of us.”

Galo’s expression darkens. “Hang on—you think I was—what? Faking being nice to you?”

Lio sighs. “Galo—”

“And _emotionally confusing?_ Do you think I’m so stupid that I don’t know what’s going on here?”

“That’s not—”

“Because I’m _not_ dumb,” Galo insists, voice rising. “I know none of this is normal, but I just thought—”

“I don’t think you’re dumb—” Lio interrupts, curling his fingers into his sleeves. “I’m just trying to tell you that it’s okay!”

“What’s okay?”

“I don’t expect you to—to act!” Lio wants to pull at his hair in frustration. Shouldn’t Galo be relieved that Lio isn’t going to hold him to any arbitrary marriage behaviors? “As long as we get along for the cameras and communicate professionally, I don’t care what you do! We’re virtually strangers, Galo, and no one is expecting us to actually act like—like husbands. Or friends, even!

Galo opens his mouth, looking furious, but Lio barrels ahead: “So while I appreciate what you were trying to do, I just want to make it perfectly clear that it’s not necessary. Save that energy for doing your job.”

“I wasn’t _acting_,” Galo spits.

Lio rolls his eyes. “Please—”

“I wasn’t!”

“Galo, I want us to get along, but if you force it, you’ll just—”

“Man, you think you know everything, don’t you?” There’s an edge in Galo’s voice that Lio’s never heard before, and it brings him up short, meeting Galo’s glare. “So you can read my mind, right? You know what I’m thinking?”

“I—”

“You could try _asking_ me before making wild assumptions,” Galo continues harshly. “Because you’re wrong. I thought—I just wanted to show you that we’re in this together, you know?” His brows pinch together, shoulders sagging. “Because I actually _do_ like you! Or I did, until I saw how conceited you are!”

“Conceited—!” Lio is on his feet before he realizes, rage thrumming through him, almost warm enough to thaw the ice under his skin.

“You just invented this whole—thing!” Galo gesticulates wildly. “A whole conspiracy about me! Without even asking!”

“I didn’t need to ask!” Lio yells, louder than he means to. Galo’s volume is infecting him and he needs to get a grip—

“Right, because you know everything—”

“I know you!”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Galo shouts, eyes burning.

“I know enough!” Lio’s rage propels him right up to Galo and leans up to snap directly in his face, “I know everything I need to know, Galo Thymos!”

Galo blinks but doesn’t back down and Lio can’t stop, the words pouring out of him without his direct control: “You’re heroic and dedicated and bull-headed and so, _so_ honest. You _cannot_ maintain any sort of charade, you’d find it dishonorable!”

“I—”

“But you’re kind, so for my sake, you’ll pretend! You’ll trick yourself and pretend, but you _can’t _keep it up—and the longer it goes on, the more you’ll resent it, resent the lying—and then you’ll resent _me_—” Lio’s voice cracks, but he grits his teeth and pushes forward, ignoring Galo’s shocked expression. “And I cannot allow that! I can’t let anything jeopardize this arrangement. It’s safer, for both of us, for both of our countries, if you don’t even try.”

“So you’re saying we should just...ignore each other?” Galo shakes his head in disbelief. “We’re literally _married_ and you want to just act like coworkers?”

“That’s basically what we are.”

“No! No—that’s…” Galo scrubs a hand through his hair, sending the unruly blue spikes in every direction. “I’m not gonna—resent you, or whatever—”

“We’ll both be happier if we don’t expect anything from each other,” Lio insists heatedly. “I’m saying you’re free! Why aren’t you glad? As long as you’re careful, you can do anything, be with anyone—”

“Whoa, whoa—hold on—” Galo holds his hands up, eyes wide. “Are you seriously suggesting you’d just—just let me _cheat _on you?” he demands.

Lio straightens his spine, staring defiantly into Galo’s eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Dude, how can you—how can you just—”

“I will do whatever I must to keep my people safe,” Lio hisses. “I will be whoever I have to be. And right now, I have to be your husband, and I will do anything to make sure this relationship doesn’t fail.”

“Anything?” Galo repeats hoarsely.

“Keeping my people safe is imperative, and that requires keeping you happy. You will be better off not trying to keep up a facade of marital bliss. I release you from that obligation.”

“But...but I—I really don’t—” Galo trails off, mumbling, pressing one hand to his forehead.

“Was that all you needed to discuss?”

“No!” Galo’s eyes widen and he seizes Lio by the shoulders before Lio can dodge. “No, I won’t allow this! It’s—it’s too sad!”

“Sad?” Lio grabs Galo’s wrists, but his grip is like iron, his gaze just as steady.

“You’re acting like you’re just some puppet and it’s shitty!”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Lio scowls. “You can’t be under any illusions regarding my position or yours!”

“Well, maybe I am, since I’m so _bull-headed _and _honest_—”

A wave of dizziness washes over Lio and the room sways. “Galo—” he grits out.

“—and I’m not just gonna stand here and let you tell me you _know me_ and that I can just go out and cheat on you! Is that really what you think of me? That I’d do something like that?”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate anything—” Lio says through clenched teeth, blinking hard to reset his swimming vision. “I was merely covering the bases—”

“Well, it sucked, and you suck!”

“I didn’t say you have to do anything!”

“That’s not the point!” Galo finally releases Lio’s shoulders and Lio stumbles slightly at the loss of the stabilizing grip. “You’ve got this all worked out, but you’re _way_ off, buddy. Don’t act like you know me, because you don’t know _shit_— as if I’d just abandon you to—”

The rest of Galo’s righteously indignant speech is drowned out by the buzzing in Lio’s ears. He puts a hand to his head, lips pressed together in a thin line, and focuses on staying upright. He really needs Galo to leave, needs to be alone, can’t let anyone see—

The floor tilts sharply and Lio staggers. Galo’s ambient babble stutters to a halt.

“Lio?” His name, like a bullet, pierces the fog settling around him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine—” Lio forces out, “I’m—” he attempts to straighten up, but the world flickers violently, and he pitches forward—

* * *

When Lio goes down, Galo reacts instinctively, lunging forward to catch him before he hits the ground. “Lio—!”

He sinks to the floor, adjusting Lio in his hold so he can tap his face. The instant his fingers make contact with the skin of Lio’s cheek, he nearly recoils. Lio is _freezing_ to the touch, and seemingly completely unconscious, dead weight in Galo’s arms.

“Shit, shit, shit—” Galo mutters, hand hovering nervously, unsure what to do.

Just as he’s descending into a full-blown panic, the door to the suite clicks, multiple locks tumbling, and Galo snaps his head up to watch it swing open.

“Lio,” Thyma, Lio’s PA, calls into the suite, busying herself with juggling her purse and relocking the door. “I certainly hope you’re in bed because it’s far too late to—” she turns around and stops short, eyes widening as she catches sight of the scene in the living room.

“Please—” Galo begs weakly. “He—he just _collapsed_, I—I don’t know what—”

“Oh, Lio—” Thyma drops her bag and rushes over, dropping to her knees beside them, pressing a hand to Lio’s forehead. “I was afraid of this,” she says under her breath.

“What? What is it?” Galo asks, glancing between her and Lio’s ashen face. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine, Prince Galo,” Thyma soothes, using her other hand to pat Galo’s arm comfortingly. Strangely, it works. Thyma has a natural steadiness about her. “It’s only—well, I’ll explain in a minute. Help me get him to bed first.” She rises quickly.

Galo nods and follows her up, keeping Lio carefully tucked against his chest. She leads him through the suite to one of the bedrooms and pushes the door open. Light from the hall spills into the dark room.

“Put him over here,” she orders, hurrying over and pulling the blankets on the bed out of the way.

Galo complies and Lio doesn’t stir when Galo settles him gingerly on the mattress. He watches anxiously as Thyma feels Lio’s forehead again with a frown.

“There’s an electric kettle in the kitchen,” she says, glancing at Galo. “Could you start some water boiling?”

“Uh—yeah—” Galo agrees with a start. He rushes out of the room, head spinning.

By the time he returns, Thyma has flipped the bedside lamp on, bathing the room in a gentle yellow glow, and is adjusting the blankets around Lio’s prone form. Galo spies Lio’s shoes sitting beside the closet door and Lio’s gloves placed neatly on the bedside table. “It’s boiling,” he tells Thyma, eyes lingering on Lio’s face, pale even in the golden wash of the lamplight.

“Thank you.” Thyma sinks down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Hot water is really better for this kind of thing.”

“What is _this kind of thing_, exactly?”

She grimaces. “It will take a little explaining. Not many people know, outside of Promare—”

“Whoa, it’s not like a state secret or anything, is it? ‘Cuz I don’t wanna—”

“No, it’s not.” Thyma plucks at the bedspread, biting her lip. “And, besides, we’re not enemies anymore, right?”

Galo blinks. “Right.”

“So it’s fine if you know.” She huffs out a quiet laugh. “You, in particular, I suppose. Since you’re married to a Burnish now.”

“Oh...oh yeah—” Galo rubs the back of his neck. “I guess that’s true,” he mumbles.

The click of the kettle turning off sounds from the kitchen and Thyma stands. “I’ll be right back. Have a seat.” She all but steers Galo toward the blocky, modern armchair in the corner before bustling out of the room.

When she comes back, she’s holding a wide bowl with steam swirling off of it. She sets it on the bedside table and disappears into the ensuite bathroom, re-emerging with a few handcloths.

Galo watches quietly as she sets about soaking a cloth. She doesn’t react at all to the heat, wringing the cloth as though the water wasn’t literally boiling less than a minute ago.

“We need to keep his body temperature up,” she explains, draping the cloth over Lio’s forehead and dipping a second one in the bowl. “I’ll go out and get some real heating pads later, but the ones they sell here don’t really get hot enough. They’ll do alright, I suppose.” She sighs, tucking the second cloth behind Lio’s neck. “I really should have been more prepared,” she mutters, eyes downcast.

“Did you...know this would happen?” Galo asks, twisting his fingers in his lap.

Thyma glances at him. “Yes, this happens to all Burnish when they get too far from the Core.”

During the brief periods Galo saw active duty with Burning Rescue, he was never part of an incursion force. His team managed inland border disputes when they got too violent for the primary militia, so he’s only ever been to the very fringes of Promare, but every soldier is given the same basic information: the Burnish can generate and control a modified form of fire and they draw that power from their ancestral connection to their land. The genetics can get a bit weird, but anyone with Burnish blood can supposedly access this connection. The Promare Core was never fully explained, and a footsoldier like Galo never needed to know anything beyond the basics. Fire=bad, super cool anti-Burnish mech suit=good.

“So, it’s like...a distance thing?” Galo leans back. “I didn’t know.” It makes sense. Most of the wide-scale conflict during the war took place either in Promare or just outside of it. “I really don’t know a lot about the Burnish.”

“That’s the way we’ve always preferred it. But everyone knows the essentials anyway.” She crosses her legs. “We’re all connected to the Core, which lies under our capital. That’s why most Burnish live in Fennel, but the Core’s influence reaches to the edges of our land. As long as we’re within range, we’re connected.”

“And, once you leave that range….”

Thyma casts a rueful look at Lio. “It’s basically a withdrawal. It’s different for each of us. Mine hit the day after we arrived. Just some dizziness and nausea, and it was gone within hours. Obviously, this is way worse.” She frowns. “And even among Burnish, Lio is special.”

“What do you mean?”

“His connection to the Core is the strongest I’ve ever seen. Didn’t you ever wonder how he became the leader of a democratic nation at such a young age?”

“Well—uh….” Galo runs a hand through his hair. “Not...not really? It just kinda...fit him. So I never actually thought about it.”

Thyma smiles. “He is naturally suited to it, but that wouldn’t be enough to get him elected.”

“Okay, so—” Galo sits forward, elbows braced on his knees. “You’re saying Lio ran on, what? A strength campaign?”

“Basically,” Thyma shrugs. “As archaic as it seems, the Burnish put a lot of stock in people who have strong connections to the Core. Our ancestors worshipped the Core as a god, and our culture evolved around that. When people see how powerful Lio is, they’re more willing to trust him.”

Galo guesses that makes sense. He really doesn’t know much about Lio, but anyone would think his situation was odd, unless you factor in Promare’s wildly different values. “That’s crazy,” he marvels. “So Lio’s, like, really strong? With the—the fire and stuff?” He tries to imagine Lio fighting like the Burnish soldiers he’s faced in the past. It’s a difficult image to conjure.

“Incredibly strong. I’d never seen anything like it, and I was a Core scientist before I joined Lio’s campaign.”

“Whoa.”

“But, in this situation, it’s a double-edged sword.” Thyma reaches over and adjusts the cloth on Lio’s forehead, brushing his bangs out of the way. “He has more innate power, so he can last longer outside the Core’s influence, but the rebound is worse. His body is more attuned to the Core, so its absence is a bigger deal than it is for me. For most of us, actually.”

“But...he’ll be okay, right?” Galo asks anxiously.

“Yes, of course,” Thyma reassures him. “We call it a withdrawal, because that’s all it is. Once his body adjusts, he’ll be completely back to normal. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

“And he’ll still have his...Burnish powers?”

Thyma actually giggles at that and holds her hand out. A small, crystalline purple flame sprouts from her palm, instantly throwing sunset shadows across the room. “Our powers are always with us, no matter the distance. The proximity of the Core has nothing to do with the presence of our Burnish flames.”

“Huh.” Galo stares at the tiny, dancing flame. He’s never seen a Burnish flame outside of battle, and distantly he thinks the sight should put him on edge. But instead he finds himself wondering what Lio’s flames look like. Are they different? Brighter? Green, like his hair?

“So, you see, there’s no reason to worry, Prince Galo,” Thyma continues, closing her fingers and extinguishing the fire. The room returns to its previous yellow hues. “I imagine you were probably pretty frightened.”

Galo blows out a breath, cupping his chin in one hand. “That’s an understatement.”

“I’m positive that Lio didn’t want to involve you in this.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Galo mutters bitterly.

Thyma tilts her head, brows furrowing. “Please understand, he’s an incredibly private person. I basically live with him and I still barely know anything about him. He regards his duty as Regent as more important than anything else, even his own life.”

Galo doesn’t respond, gaze fixed on the floor, free hand tapping agitatedly against his knee.

“Prince Galo.”

Something about Thyma’s voice drags his attention up to find her leveling him with an intense stare.

“I want you to understand,” she enunciates firmly. “Everything he does, he does for Promare.”

“I know that.” Galo chuckles humorlessly. “_Trust me_, I know that.”

“Then you know how sad that is.”

For a beat, Galo doesn’t respond. He sits up slightly and links his hands between his knees, breathing out. “Yeah, I know that too.” He presses his lips together. “I want to help, and, like, be a part of all this, but...earlier, he told me I shouldn’t even try.”

Thyma shakes her head. “Typical.” She dips one hand on the bowl and frowns, apparently not pleased with the temperature. “I won’t speak for him, or try to speculate on what he’s thinking, because it’s not my place, and I definitely can’t control what either of you do—” she rises and collects the bowl, sliding Galo a complicated look. “But I really hope you two can be allies, at least.”

Before Galo can respond, she glides out of the room.

Galo stares blankly at Lio’s sleeping profile. In the diffuse light of the lamp, his hair looks almost white, splayed around his head like a bleached halo. Galo wrinkles his nose. The green really suits Lio better.

Now that the room is quiet, he can just hear Lio’s shallow breaths, steady but labored. He looks small against the king-sized mattress and Galo’s mind strays to just how slight Lio felt in his arms earlier. How light.

Lio doesn’t act small, and when he’s awake, Galo can’t perceive him as anything other than a massive force of personality, radiating energy. But now that gravity is dampened. Visually, at least. Bizarrely, Galo still feels that tug, deep in his chest, that he always does around Lio. He assumed it was a result of Lio’s natural magnetism, but none of that is on display now.

Their argument still stings when he thinks about it. That Lio assumed he was only pretending to be nice, that he’d run off with someone else just to satisfy _himself_—it sucks. Just when Galo was starting to think they were in this thing together—

_I will do whatever I must to keep my people safe_. Eyes flashing violet, voice unwavering. _I will be whoever I have to be._

Galo grits his teeth.

Fuck. That.

* * *

It’s fucking _freezing_.

There are spots of warmth, and he can feel them, behind his neck, over his eyes, and a warm weight pressing him down, but it’s not enough to cancel out the bone-deep chill gripping his entire body. Lio pries his eyes open, finds the world still dark. Whatever’s over his eyes is blocking his vision.

He tries to lift a hand to pull it off, but his arm is trapped. Frustrated, he kicks out, shoving the thick duvet off of himself and reaches up, snagging the—warm cloth?

“Hey—whoa—what the fuck!”

The voice that starts panicking right next to him makes Lio jolt upright, tugging the cloth away and blinking in the sudden brightness at—

“Galo?”

The prince of Parnassus stares back at him, posed awkwardly in a chair beside the bed, hands frozen in mid-air like he was going to grab Lio before thinking better of it. “Dude!” he exhales roughly, relaxing. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“What are you doing here?” Lio asks through his teeth, clenched to keep them from chattering.

“Oh, Thyma had to go do some scheduling stuff and uh—oh yeah, she told me—” he breaks off and reaches for something on the bedside table.

Lio watches with abject bewilderment as Galo grabs a thermos and unscrews the cap.

“Here—it’s hot water. I just refilled it, so it should be practically boiling—” he holds the thermos out toward Lio, smiling encouragingly.

Lio regards Galo and the thermos with confused suspicion, his brain whirring sluggishly as it tries to connect the dots. The last thing he remembers is arguing with Galo in the living room, then a hazy period of cold nothingness, and now— before he can make sense of it, a shiver wracks his body, too obvious to hide, and Galo shakes the thermos slightly, eyebrows raised.

Reluctantly, Lio accepts it. He has to hold it with both hands to account for the shaking, but the scalding water is a relief against his throat. He takes a deep breath, savoring the fleeting warmth that curls through him, before focusing on Galo again. “What are you doing here?”

Unperturbed, Galo reclaims the thermos and puts it back on the bedside table, next to a wide bowl of steaming water and a small pile of clean handcloths. “Like I said, Thyma had to step out. We couldn’t just leave you alone, man.”

“That’s not—” Sighing, Lio rubs a hand over his pounding forehead. “Why are _you_ here, specifically?”

“Don’t sound _too_ thrilled.” Galo tugs the layers of blankets Lio kicked off back into place, pulling them over Lio’s legs. “I’ve been in and out since last night.”

“Last night—” Lio darts a glance at the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “How long have I…?”

“Well, it’s almost noon now, so since last night—about twelve hours.”

Lio slumps in relief. At least he hasn’t been out for days or something.

“You should really lie back down.”

And before Lio can resist, a firm hand on his shoulder is pushing him back against the pillows. “Hey—”

“Sorry, dude, but you look like shit.”

Lio glares at Galo as he goes about pulling on a pair of—gloves? They’re thick latex, bright yellow, like dishwashing gloves. Then Galo picks up a cloth and dunks it in the bowl and Lio understands.

“You don’t...have to do that.”

Galo shrugs, wringing the cloth out. “It’s just me here right now. Not a lot of options.”

“No, I meant—” Lio breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain that spikes through his head. “Ugh.”

Warmth settles over his forehead, momentarily dampening the pain and Lio squints up at Galo, who’s discarding the gloves and rummaging for something else on the table.

“Is this, like, normal?” Galo asks, brows furrowed. “Thyma explained it to me, but this seems...really rough.”

Dazedly, Lio raises a hand to press the cloth tighter against his skin. “Yes, this...is normal for me.”

“Every time you leave Promare, huh?”

“I have only been far enough from the Core to trigger withdrawal twice before, but this is the farthest I’ve ever been.”

“I swear—” Galo finally finds what he’s looking for, a package of some sort, and tears into it, shaking his head. “I thought I fucking killed you.”

Cringing, Lio realizes he must have passed out right in front of Galo. “I...apologize. That was not my finest moment.”

“No kidding. I mean, it’s cool, but it really freaked me out.” He extracts a white patch from the package and kneads it a few times with his thumbs. “You should have told me you weren’t feeling well. Or told...anyone, I guess.”

“It came on fairly suddenly,” Lio says, watching Galo absently. “And, to be fair, I was heading to bed when you showed up.”

“But you were gonna keep quiet if you could?”

“Yes.”

Galo sighs, focusing intently on the patch in his hands. After a little more kneading, he peels the back off like a giant sticker, and scoots closer to the bed. “Lift up a bit.”

Puzzled and too foggy to argue, Lio sits up on his elbow, one hand on the cloth to keep it from falling. Galo hesitates for a second before reaching around and brushing Lio’s hair away from the nape of his neck.

The touch of Galo’s bare hand is a shock against Lio’s frigid skin. It’s impossible for Galo to be as warm as the water, completely impossible, but he _feels_ even warmer. For the brief seconds it takes Galo to place the patch on the back of Lio’s neck, large hand cupping Lio’s nape as he smooths the patch into place, Lio is overcome by the heat.

Then Galo is leaning back and Lio lowers himself back onto the pillows, realizing that the patch is a heating pad as it starts warming up. It’s not as hot as the water (or Galo’s hands) but it’s better than nothing, and Lio sighs, pulling the blankets back into place around himself. “You didn’t really answer my question earlier.”

“Uh—what question?” Galo asks, organizing the things on the bedside table. “Sorry, I was a little spooked after you punched out of the blankets like a zombie out of the grave.”

“Why are you here, Galo?”

Galo stills, eyes cutting over to Lio. “Do you...not want me here?”

Lio opens his mouth to say no, he doesn’t want Galo here. Galo’s actions so far have wildly surpassed what could be reasonably expected of him, and Lio needs to reassert his understanding of their relationship. But the pinched, nervous look on Galo’s face kills the words on his tongue and what comes out instead is: “If I said I didn’t, would you leave?”

Galo blinks, sitting back in his chair. “Yeah, totally. I’d have to call someone—Thyma, I guess, ‘cuz I really don’t think you should be alone right now, but if you really don’t want me around—” he twists his hands in his lap, worrying at a thumbnail. “I won’t force you to put up with me.”

“I mean—” Lio bites his lip. “Don’t you have something else you’d rather be doing?”

Galo rubs the back of his neck, brows furrowed. “Not to sound too corny, but it’d be pretty shitty of me to leave my husband alone while he’s sick.”

Despite the chill pervading every inch of Lio’s body, he feels his cheeks get warm and he has to look away, at his fingers twisting in the duvet. “Oh—uh, that’s—that’s kind of you, but...not necessary, I—”

“And that!” Galo shouts, cutting him off, and Lio jumps, looking back up to see him leaning forward, eyes shining. “I need to talk to you!”

Blinking at the sudden intensity, Lio struggles to gather himself. “No offence,” he starts carefully, “but the last time we..._talked_, we shouted at each other until I passed out. Maybe we should refrain.”

“Sorry, but this can’t wait.”

Lio doesn’t want it to _wait_, he wants this, whatever Galo is so focused on, to disappear. Already, his plans for how things would go after the wedding have completely fallen apart, and the wedding was yesterday. “If this is about our conversation last night, I should have been clearer. What I meant was—”

“No, you listen this time,” Galo cuts in and Lio narrows his eyes at being interrupted _again_. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.” Galo’s stare doesn’t waver, boring Lio right into the pillows. “And I decided I get it.”

Lio quirks an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Yeah. But it still sucks.”

Lio bites back a groan. “Galo—”

“You’re seriously cool with me just _cheating _on you? Really?”

“It’s not like we’re really together,” Lio snaps before he can stop himself. “We met two weeks ago.”

“I know that!”

“I wasn’t encouraging you to just go out and sleep with whoever,” Lio insists. “I was only saying that I don’t want to—to _limit _you.”

Galo squints. “Limit me?”

“Well, you’re—” Lio searches for the right words. “Young, and—and attractive. I just didn’t want our arrangement to cut off all of your...opportunities.”

Galo blinks at him. “You think I’m attractive?”

Lio restrains himself from reaching over and smacking Galo upside the head. “Will you focus? You were the one who brought this up.”

“Right, uh—”

“You said you get it, so do you get that? I’m trying not to let this treaty destroy your life.”

“Okay, dude, I don’t know where you got the idea that I was dragged into this against my will, but that’s not it,” Galo scowls. “I _accepted _the terms of the treaty, okay, I knew what I was getting into.”

_And what choice did you have? _Lio wants to shout. _What choice did any of us have?_ “Perhaps, but our situation is not normal. It wouldn’t be fair of me to demand that you conform with regular marital expectations.”

“Because you’re afraid that if you upset me, I’ll go running to Kray.”

Lio’s fingers curl into the duvet like claws. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Galo slumps a little, leaning one elbow on his knee. “You said last night that you would do anything to make sure our arrangement works. You can’t afford to make me unhappy, because you’re worried I’ll walk.”

It sounds cruel when Galo says it, but he’s right. Lio presses his lips together in a thin line and holds Galo’s stare unwaveringly. “That is a big part of it, yes.”

Galo blows out a sigh. “You really don’t trust me, huh?”

“It’s not a matter of trust.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s—” _caution, fear, desperation._ Galo seems like a good person, probably _is_ a good person, but Lio can’t leave this up to other people, no matter how good they are or how much he trusts them. “It’s insurance.”

Galo whistles lowly. “Pretty cold.”

“I have to put my duty to my people first.”

“So—so we’re married. But we’re coworkers.”

“It’s safest to think like that, yes.”

“Fuck, man, I—” Galo breaks off on a sharp exhale, dropping his face into his hands. “That _sucks_. I don’t want that.”

Lio shifts uncomfortably, the chill in his bones making itself known again. “You’ll be grateful for the distance when you want to live your own life, or meet someone you actually like.”

“Okay, stop that—” Galo picks his head up to glare at Lio. “I’m not cheating on you, and I’m not gonna..._sleep_ with someone else, so stop bringing it up.”

Lio regards him critically for a beat. “Ah. I see. In that case, please understand that I’m inexperienced, so should you decide to relieve those urges, I—”

A wordless shriek drowns out Lio’s next words and Galo is lunging forward, slapping a hand over Lio’s mouth, his face glowing crimson.

Eyes wide, pressed against the pillows by the hand covering the entire bottom half of his face, Lio stares up at Galo in shock as he has some sort of episode, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, growing redder by the second.

“You—” Galo chokes out finally, “—are killing me, man! Where—how did you even—? I didn’t mean—!”

Lio yanks Galo’s hand away, frowning. “You said you didn’t want to sleep with someone else!”

“Yeah, but I’m not some crazy hormonal sex maniac!”

“I didn’t say you were! I was only—”

“Okay! Okay—” Galo sighs heavily, running one hand through his hair, which makes Lio realize he’s still gripping Galo’s other wrist. He quickly lets go.

“I’m not going to argue with a sick person,” Galo continues, a bit more sedately.

Lio scoffs incredulously. “You haven’t had a problem so far.”

“That was—” Galo breaks off on a growl. “Alright, look—” he sits back a little, still perched on the edge of his chair, but no longer looming directly over Lio. “First of all, forget...all of that—” he gestures vaguely, still blushing, “—we’ll deal with that later, maybe. Right now, we really need to get some stuff straight.”

Lio pinches the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. This conversation has been going on too long already. He’s cold and tired and his head hurts. But Galo is obviously determined. Plus, Lio’s skin is still tingling where Galo touched it, and that’s making it hard to think. “Fine, what is it?”

“Oh—shit, first you should drink some more water—”

Dizzily, Lio tries to pinpoint the exact moment his life went completely off the rails as he complies with Galo’s fussing. Could he have stopped this? Or was it the doing of some malicious and all-powerful god, manipulating his fate with the gleeful irreverence of a child? Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, but Lio curses silently at the universe anyway for good measure.

“Okay,” Galo starts, once he’s satisfied. “Earlier, I said I get it, and I do, I really, actually do—”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”

“—but you’ve got some stuff wrong.”

Lio tips his head back against the pillows as far is it will go. “Elaborate.”

“I was never pretending to be nice to you,” Galo says firmly. “I really do want to get along with you, and you’re pretty cool, in, like, an uptight way.”

Lio blinks. “Thank...you?”

“That sounded weird, but I’m serious. You’re smart and...mature, and you look like you’ve got your shit handled. If I were anyone else, I’d be jealous.” Galo beams. “But I’m pretty great too, so, together, I think we can really shine!”

Speechless, Lio can do nothing but stare as Galo barrels ahead:

"I get why you’d have hang-ups about faking a relationship. I mean, you were actually pretty right about me. I am too honest sometimes—” Galo laughs sheepishly. “The others tell me that all the time. And I really don’t like lying, that’s why I’d never lie to you like that.” Head tilted, Galo’s grin softens into a gentle smile. “It never even crossed my mind, dude. I know things were awkward between us the past two weeks, and, you’re _right_, we’re basically strangers, but I wouldn’t just start pretending to like you. Like you said, I could never keep it up.”

“Right,” Lio mumbles, unsure what Galo is getting at.

“But your whole...savior complex—”

“My _what_—”

“—I’m not about that. Maybe someone else would be happy that you’re letting them off the hook, but I’m not that kind of guy. I knew what I was getting into, and I’m here to tell you I don’t go back on my word. Ever.” Galo sits forward, expression solemn. “I’m ready to be your partner.”

Lio’s heart jumps inexplicably in his chest. “Galo….”

“I guess that’s essentially what I wanted to tell you last night, but I was all worked up and I lost it a little, so...sorry about that.” Galo ducks his head, looking contrite.

The leaping in Lio’s chest gets worse. “I...I’m sorry too. I said...a lot of things. I wasn’t in control of myself. Sorry.”

“Can’t blame you,” Galo offers with a small smile. “You probably felt terrible.”

“Regardless, I….” Lio takes a deep breath. His head is full of words and they all want to come out at once, but he has to organize them, has to make them make sense. “I apologize for accusing you of pretending. I realize now that I was basically calling you a liar, and that was cruel.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I do...understand your feelings, but—” Lio swallows hard. “I need you to understand that this...is risky.”

Galo furrows his brow, looking intent, so Lio presses on.

“You want to be partners, and of course it would be better for us to get along, since you’re entitled to half of my ruling authority over Promare, but just like a fake relationship, a real relationship—” Lio curls his fingers into the duvet. “We don’t know each other, and if we do get to know each other, and you realize that you don’t like me, you’ll grow to resent me. I can’t afford to risk your hatred.”

“Do you really think I’d call this whole thing off just because I stopped liking you?” Galo asks, frowning.

Lio averts his eyes. “You’re kind and honorable, and I _don’t_ think you’d do something so selfish, but I simply can’t risk it. It’s safer to view each other as coworkers and mitigate any damage a real relationship between us might do to the treaty. The war cannot resume and I cannot take any chances.”

Galo is silent for a beat, long enough for Lio to resume shivering, fine, constant tremors running through his muscles. It’s just the withdrawal, he tells himself, not nerves. Then Galo shifts his weight.

“This probably isn’t a good time to bring this up,” he starts, sounding so hesitant that Lio looks back up at him. “But I fought in the border dispute last year. I saw several battles with my unit.”

Lio blinks. He knew Galo’s unit was specialized for anti-Burnish weaponry, but he never really connected that to its logical conclusion.

“I’m not as...involved in everything as you, but I know the war. I saw it. Defense only—” he clarifies quickly, “—and I was mostly on rescue duty. I never...killed anyone. That’s not an excuse, but….”

“I wouldn’t hold that against you, Galo,” Lio says quietly. “I’ve fought Parnassans as well. Who we are in war does not define us.”

Galo flashes him a tight smile. “Yeah. But I brought that up because I want you to know that I want the treaty to succeed too. This isn’t just something I was railroaded into, or something I don’t have any context for. This war—” he grimaces. “It should have never happened. But I really think that, between you, me, and Kray, we can end it. And I’m proud and—and excited to be doing this!” Galo hitches his familiar grin back up. “We’re really making history! And it’s kind of weird, but whole generations are gonna learn about us, generations that might not even exist without us, and I think that’s...really important, you know?”

Lio stares into Galo’s glittering eyes, speechless.

“So, that’s where I am on all this. I really want this to work, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes, like you. I don’t want to just be...told to run off and play in the corner, I guess. I don’t want to be coworkers. I want to be partners.”

“Galo—” Lio breaks off, throat tight. “I...I understand what you’re saying, but—but I still—” he shakes his head. “This treaty—this marriage—this is a whole lifetime we’re talking about. And, my own concerns aside, it really isn’t fair to you. I...would like to protect your right to a normal life.”

“That’s...I appreciate that.”

“And I still can’t...shake the fear that you’ll come to resent me for taking that from you, and then….” Lio trails off, unable to articulate the constant, looming anxiety that’s been crowding him since the marriage stipulation was first raised in the peace talks.

Galo doesn’t say anything for a moment, brow furrowed, staring intently at the floor between his feet. Lio is about to sigh and suggest they try talking again later when Galo pushes forward abruptly, shifting from his seat on the chair to the edge of the bed. Lio feels the whole mattress dip with Galo’s weight, settled next to his hip, and he meets Galo’s earnest gaze with a flicker of confusion.

“Lio,” Galo starts seriously, reaching for one of Lio’s hands where it lays on top of the duvet. Lio lets him take it and nearly gasps at the searing warmth that envelops his hand. “During the ceremony, I was having a total meltdown,” Galo says. “It’s like everything hit me all at once and I thought I was going to completely break apart.” He squeezes Lio’s hand. “But then you tapped me, and I realized...I started to realize that, however this happened, it’s happening, and we’re...in this together now. We’re married.”

Lio waits, searching Galo’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity.

“I made a lot of promises yesterday,” Galo goes on, “I don’t really remember most of them, but I’m going to make you another one, right now, just between us. No treaty or reporters or Kray, or anything.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Lio, I promise that I will not leave you.”

Lio’s mouth drops open, but Galo is still talking, leaning forward slightly with emotion:

“I swear that whatever happens between us, whether we get along, or realize we can’t fucking stand each other, whatever happens—I’m on your side. I’m not going to resent you or walk away. From now on, no matter what, you’ve got me.”

A million potential problems spring into Lio’s brain, clambering to pour out of his mouth, but he presses his lips together against them and holds Galo’s gaze steadily.

Galo smiles. “I guess that’s what our vows basically said, but that was for everyone else. This is for you—this is me telling you that I’m here now. So don’t shut me out. Okay?”

A breath stutters out of Lio’s lungs, and all those words, those protests swarming his thoughts, fall silent. For now. “Okay,” he says hoarsely.

Galo blinks. “Wait, really?”

“Yes.” Lio adjusts his hand in Galo’s grip so that he can squeeze back. “You win. If you’ll be there for me, I’ll be there for you too.” Before he can stop it, a smile creeps across his face. “Let’s do this together.”

“Hell yeah!” Galo laughs, and the sound is relieved and far more jubilant than the situation calls for. He beams right at Lio. “I look forward to getting to know you, Lio.”

Again, Lio’s heart flips. “Likewise.”

For a beat, they just stare at each other, Galo leaning over Lio, hands tangled, and it’s the warmest Lio has felt since he woke up.

Then Galo clears his throat, cheeks reddening, and backs away, releasing Lio’s hand. “Uh...cool, um—anyway—” he rises quickly. “I’ll go—uh—boil some more water, so, I—I’ll be right back—”

Lio watches bemusedly as Galo gathers the bowl and hurries out of the room.

As soon as he’s gone, it’s like everything crashes at once. The cold and pain rush back and Lio winces against the onslaught, shivering violently under the duvet. And even worse than the cold is the exhaustion. Suddenly, Lio can barely keep his eyes open. He doesn’t want to fall back asleep; he has too much to sort out, now that he and Galo are officially...what? Friends? Partners? But his body doesn’t care, and before he can even gather his thoughts, the room blurs around him.

He barely hears the door creak open as everything sinks into a freezing fog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like a cat wrangler trying to get these characters to do what i need them to, if that makes any sense.
> 
> sorry to anyone who was looking forward to a fake-relationship scenario, that's not where I envisioned this fic going. when they need to, lio and galo actually communicate really well and i wanted to bring that out as soon as possible. there will be plenty of drama upcoming though, so don't worry ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio takes some time to recover. Galo tries out being a doting husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is she, you know *mimes writing domestic fluff in what's supposed to be a multi-chapter slowburn* a liar?
> 
> on a serious note, all of your comments have been making my whole life. i don't respond individually to comments bc i get too in my head about it, but please know that i'm so grateful for your kind words and keysmashes. thank you!!! 
> 
> please enjoy!!

It would be uncharitable to call Lio a difficult patient.

Galo can tell he’s doing his best to behave but it’s against his nature to be taken care of, so Galo and Thyma have to get a little forceful sometimes. Fortunately, Galo has plenty of experience dealing with Lucia, who is similarly stubborn and prone to debilitating seasonal allergies, and, all things considered, it’s easier to herd Lio back to bed than it is to drag Lucia away from her work. At least Lio doesn’t bite.

After a few days of no improvement and Lio’s mood steadily worsening, Galo shoves all the dvds he owns into a backpack and relieves Thyma for babysitting duty with a big smile on his face.

As usual, Lio struggles to sit up when he sees him.

“Hey! How are you feeling?” Galo asks, bustling around, getting things in order.

Lio slumps, peeling a heating pad off his neck and discarding it with a frown. “The same.”

He looks the same too: pale and shaky. He’s not drifting randomly into unconsciousness anymore, which Galo is choosing to take as a good sign, but he’s still freezing to the touch and has trouble standing for more than a few minutes. When Galo asked Thyma if they should be more concerned, she shrugged.

“If it goes much longer without getting better, we should start to worry,” she said. “But sometimes it can take a while.”

“Where’s Thyma?” Lio continues, watching Galo suspiciously.

“Had to go do some stuff.” Galo snags one of the spare blankets from the pile at the foot of the bed. “Here—lean forward.”

Lio complies with only minimal scowling and Galo wraps the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

“Explaining to Kray’s people why we’re not leaving today, right?” Lio asks, because, even sick out of his mind, he never misses anything.

“She’ll take care of it,” Galo assures him breezily. “You just need to focus on getting better.”

Lio stares at his lap, expression murderous. “Useless,” he mutters.

“Come on, don’t worry about all that—” Galo puts a hand on Lio’s head, ruffling his already messy hair. Lio sends him a token glare but doesn’t avoid his hand. Over the past few days, Galo’s found that Lio seems to like it when Galo touches him. At least, he doesn’t offer any resistance. Sometimes, he even leans into it. “It’s boring as hell just lying around all day, huh?”

Lio glances up at him, eyes narrow. “It’s not like you’ll let me leave.”

“Exactly!” And before Lio can react, Galo bends down and scoops him off the bed, careful to keep the blanket around his shoulders.

“Hey—!” Lio flails in surprise before grabbing onto Galo’s shoulders. “What are you doing?” he demands.

Galo laughs, marching them both out of the room. “The TV’s in the living room—”

“I can walk!”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t.”

Lio grumbles under his breath as Galo settles him into the small nest of blankets and pillows he already arranged on the couch, but if he really disliked the treatment, Galo would know. Now that they’ve moved past the polite political stage of their relationship, Galo is quickly learning that Lio is very opinionated and _very _vocal, though not in the same way Galo is.

Galo knows he’s loud, and that’s fine! There’s so much emotion blazing inside him, how can he not let everyone know? Lio is a man of fewer words, but he cuts to the point sharply enough to draw blood. As he gradually relaxes around Galo, his clever tongue shows itself more and more, even given how exhausted he is, and Galo has never been more pleased to be called an idiot.

“Okay—” Galo wraps a few more blankets around Lio’s shoulders and grabs a thermos off the coffee table. “I’ve got soup! Captain Ignis’s special recipe.” He unscrews the lid and gives the steam curling off the top a tentative sniff. He wrinkles his nose; it smells correct, but way too spicy for him. “It’s got pepper in it, and all sorts of hot stuff.” He passes the thermos to Lio, who takes it with a curious eyebrow lift.

“Did you make this?” He breathes in the steam, eyeing Galo skeptically.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m a good cook.”

“Really?” Lio deadpans.

“Yes!” Galo insists. “I was on my own for a long time—had to learn at some point.”

Still looking dubious, Lio takes a sip and Galo’s weak human tongue recoils at the sight.

“So? How is it?”

Lio swallows and considers for a second. “It’s good,” he concedes, eyes widening.

Galo fist-pumps. “Told you so! And don’t look so surprised.”

Lio rolls his eyes and takes another sip. “So why did you insist on bringing me in here? For soup?”

“No—today I’ve brought—” Galo reaches down and grabs his backpack off the floor, pulling it open to show Lio the interior. “Movies!”

“Oh.”

“Go ahead, take your pick, I’ve got—” Galo digs around in the jumbled collection of DVD cases, “—documentaries, horror movies, every Revengers movie—Varys gave me a boxset—some cartoon about a huge drill—I don’t know, I haven’t seen that one yet—oh, shit, this one’s a training film I still need to watch, uh—” he looks back up at Lio, grinning. “What do you think?”

Lio blinks at him. “I...I don’t know.”

“What’s your favorite genre? Lucia is always forcing these on me, so I probably have something—”

“I don’t know.”

Galo tilts his head. "What do you mean?”

Lio stares blankly at the mess of DVDs in Galo’s bag. “I haven’t seen a movie in years. I really don’t—” he breaks off, frowning, and curls himself tighter around the steaming thermos.

_Oh._ “That’s cool, then— don’t worry about it!” Galo says quickly. “I’ll pick one that I think you’ll like, uh—” he furrows his brows at his collection, brain whirring. Lio’s a smart guy, so maybe a documentary? But most of the ones Galo owns are about firefighting, so maybe not. The superhero movies are kind of stupid, even in Galo’s opinion, and the cartoon might be terrible for all he knows. Remi gifted it to him and his tastes are...questionable sometimes. He glances up to find Lio watching him cautiously. God, now he’s sweating. Why is this so hard?

“How about—this one!” he grabs one at random and holds it up, realizing too late that it’s a horror movie (foisted on him by Aina). Oh well. At least he’s seen this one. Through his fingers, but still.

Lio scans the gorey box art hesitantly. “What is it about?”

“Uh—some monster that attacks an arctic research station or something.”

Unfortunately, Lio actually looks intrigued at that, so Galo sucks it up and hurries to stick it in the DVD player. Once it’s safely spinning and the opening graphics are scrolling across the screen, Galo settles himself back on the couch a comfortable distance away from Lio, close enough to say _we’re cool _but far enough to say _I respect your space even though I just carried you bodily from the other room_. He resists the urge to scoot closer.

Lio watches the screen with mild interest, occasionally sipping from the thermos, and it’s hard for Galo to keep his focus forward. He keeps sneaking sideways glances, fascinated by the sight of Lio all bundled up, hair in disarray, hands cupping the thermos firmly to compensate for his shivering. Unbidden, the urge to reach over and cover those pale, shaking hands with his own swells inside him, and he physically clenches his fists against it, forcing his attention back to the TV screen.

Because he’s working hard to ignore the voice that’s wondering how long he’d have to hold Lio’s hands to get them to stop trembling, the first jump scare in the film takes him completely by surprise and he yelps, jolting in his seat.

Lio slides him an unimpressed look.

Galo straighten up and clears his throat deliberately. “Just startled me,” he says casually.

“We don’t have to—”

“No, I’m good!” Galo insists. “Totally cool. Not scary at all.”

Lio cocks his head at the screen. “This is scary?”

“Nope,” Galo responds, popping the _p_. He expands his posture, trying to look relaxed, and ends up draping his arms across the back of the couch.

Lio doesn’t look convinced, but he settles back down, shifting his weight slightly, and Galo is suddenly very aware that if either of them move an inch closer, Galo could put his arm around Lio’s shoulders.

That thought distracts him for the next half hour of the film. But not long enough to make Galo forget that he really, _really_ hates horror movies.

“Should I turn it off?” Lio asks, sounding alarmed.

“No, I’m good,” Galo squeaks, voice muffled in the pillow he’s clutching for dear life. The monster on screen gives an unnatural, twitching groan, and Galo sinks further against the cushions, legs pulled up in front of him. “Totally fine.”

“We don’t have to finish—”

“No, no, you’re enjoying it, right?” Indeed, Lio has been watching the screen intently since the moment the monster first appeared. “It’s almost over anyway.”

Lio makes a humming noise and drops the subject. Galo watches the rest of the movie through his fingers, like last time.

During the climax, Galo buries his face completely in the pillow, struggling not to wince at the wet crunching and screaming filling the room through the speakers. After a minute, he feels a hesitant touch on his shoulder. It’s ice cold, but oddly comforting nonetheless, and when it withdraws a second later, Galo finds he has enough grit to peek at the screen until the ordeal is over.

Credits rolling, Galo scrambles to eject the DVD, grinning at Lio. “So? What did you think?”

Lio taps his chin. “I...am struggling to understand what had you in such a state.”

Galo sags. “So you really weren’t scared?”

“Some moments were abrupt, but, scary…?” Lio makes a face. “It was interesting, though.”

Sticking the disc back in its case, Galo stuffs the box into his bag and flops back onto the couch. “So you liked it?”

“I think so.” Lio hitches his several layers of blankets back up around himself. “Over the past few decades, Promare’s entertainment industry has...stalled, I suppose. Independent studios still exist, but in general, my people have not been thinking about that kind of thing. And I have been busy. So it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a film.”

Galo angles himself toward Lio, propping an elbow on the back of the couch and leaning his head against his hand. “That makes sense. I spent a long time so focused on one thing that I totally forgot about anything else. I didn’t do anything but study and train. When my team found out, they all started giving me stuff. Like movies and books and shit.” He chuckles, remembering the first time Lucia had stared at him in horror as he confessed he didn’t understand her pithy pop culture reference. “I still feel like I’m catching up.”

“Studying and training...to be a firefighter?”

“Yeah!” Galo smiles. “It’s been my dream for so long, as soon as I was old enough to start learning, that’s all I did. And since Kray recommended me for station three, I had to do extra deployment training and—” he breaks off, deciding that’s a topic best left for another time. “Anyway, it was a lot, and then I got adopted, and there was all that stuff to deal with, so the past couple years I’ve been trying to learn how to have free time again.”

“Learn how to have free time,” Lio repeats thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowed. “I wonder if I can do that.”

“Hell yeah you can, dude!” Galo sits ups excitedly. “We’ll be super busy for a while, but once things slow down, I can show you all the stuff you’ve been missing. You seem like the kind of guy who’d _love _audiobooks. I listen to them when I work out—I can recommend you some—and there’s this documentary series I’ve been watching about the deep ocean—it’s kind of freaky, but I think you’d like it, and—oh, shit!” With a jolt, Galo realizes that the thermos is empty. “You need something to drink! Hang on, I’ll boil some water—” he shoots to his feet. “Do you want tea or just water?”

Lio blinks a few times, staring up at him. “Uh, just—just water—”

“Cool! Hang tight for just one minute—”

Galo dashes into the kitchen and starts the kettle. After a few seconds of quiet boiling, the ache in his cheeks alerts him to just how hard he’s smiling.

Lio accepts the mug of hot water with a muttered thanks and tips his face over the steam for a second before taking a long sip. Galo settles back on the couch, a little closer this time, the bubbly feeling in his chest making him bold.

“Why did King Foresight adopt you, Galo?” Lio asks suddenly. His voice is soft and when Galo turns to look at him, his expression is genuine. “Everyone knows the story about his rescuing you, but that was so long ago. Why did he adopt you so recently?”

“Uh, well, that’s—”

“If it’s a private matter, I don’t—”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just—” Galo scratches the back of his head, trying to figure out how best to explain it. “After he rescued me, I didn’t have anyone. The fire, uh—nothing was left. And he made sure I was looked after, but he was a young Parliamentarian, and he didn’t really have the time for a kid, you know? I never went into the system, officially. I stayed with a friend of his until I was old enough to be on my own.” Galo pulls his legs up to sit criss-cross. “He wasn’t a firefighter, but I realized I wanted to save people like he saved me, and he recommended me for station three. He’s always looked out for me.”

Lio shifts so that he’s facing Galo, tilting his head sideways against the couch cushions, carefully cradling his mug. “And he adopted you after he became king?”

Galo mirrors Lio unconsciously, leaning sideways against the cushions. “Yeah. The whole king thing was a little surprising. No one expected King Prometh to appoint a successor, since he was so into making the country a democracy, you know? But I guess his health got way worse suddenly, because he appointed Kray and then died right after. It really sucked.”

“King Prometh,” Lio frowns. “Right.”

“So Kray was suddenly king and then people started looking into him and found out about me, so he decided to adopt me officially before my twenty-first birthday. If I was the prince, the government could control news about me, according to Kray. Plus it made him look good.”

“How utilitarian.”

Galo shrugs one shoulder. “I didn’t mind. I get it, you know? It’s all about image. You too, right?”

Lio quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re Regent of a whole country and you’re, what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”

“Twenty-three,” Lio mutters.

“That’s crazy, man. You had to play the image game to get elected, right?”

Lio looks contemplatively into his mug for a beat. “I suppose. I never thought about that very much. But Thyma and my lieutenants did a lot to...market me. I wouldn’t have been elected without them.”

Galo remembers what Thyma told him about Lio’s power level being a major draw for voters and imagines it would have taken some planning to advertise that properly. “Both of our countries are lucky they were around, huh?”

“Yes.” Lio smiles softly. “I owe them so much.”

“You’re pretty good at it now, though.”

“At what?”

“The whole—” Galo gestures vaguely. “—image thing. You always keep it together really well with the reporters and stuff.”

“Ah.” Lio’s mouth twists to the side. “Lots of practice. It’s...hard sometimes. To keep it together. Believe me, my true thoughts are—” he scowls. “Inappropriate for broadcast.”

A laugh punches out of Galo before he can stop it. “I knew it! I could just tell you were mentally strangling everyone during those interviews!”

Lio grimaces. “Was I that obvious?”

“No, not at all, man. I was just picking up your vibe, I guess.” He winks, because no matter what Aina says, his winking face is handsome and endearing. “I’m starting to figure you out.”

Lio groans, turning his face into the cushions. “Unfortunate.”

_Cute_. Galo swallows. “Anyway—uh...what about you?”

“Me?” Lio picks his head up.

“Yeah, how’d you become royalty? Or, why, I guess. I know how.”

Lio trails one finger around the rim of his mug. “It’s not an interesting story,” he starts, gaze distant. “I grew up near the border and lost my family young, so I always knew I wanted to end the war. But the only political power in Promare is all the way at the top. The Council exists to pass laws, but the Regent has the ultimate authority. Our arrangement—” he glances at Galo, “—splitting the power like this, is unprecedented. Most Regents stay unmarried solely so they don’t have to share power with anyone.”

“That’s weird.”

Lio shrugs. “The government needs an overhaul, and I’m in a position to do that, but I have to wait until the war is well and truly over.”

“So you’ve been planning for this basically your whole life.”

“Sort of like you.”

Galo blinks. “I wouldn’t compare my dream of being a firefighter to your...life-long political ambitions. I...I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.”

Tilting his head, Lio regards Galo with the softest expression he’s seen on him so far. “It’s not so different. We both want to save people. I think your goals are very noble, Galo.”

“Oh...uh—” The back of Galo’s neck burns and he glances away bashfully. Since becoming prince, he’s gotten a lot of lip-service; everywhere he turns people want to compliment him on his heroism and bravery, but it always rings hollow. Galo is glad to be appreciated, but it was always him, not his team, who tellingly got the attention. Lio, with his intense purple gaze and frank way of speaking, is the first person to say those words and sound like he means them. “Thanks. That...uh...that means a lot coming from you.”

“I hope that you can continue your work with Burning Rescue as much as possible, even after we move to Promare.”

“Right!” Galo looks back at Lio, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. “The captain told me I can continue as a reserve member and put in hours whenever I come to visit.” He chuckles. “You probably don’t really need firefighters in Promare, huh?”

“That’s true,” Lio confirms. He purses his lips. “However, we got a lot of requests to institute such a system after that photo from your most recent operation went viral.”

“Photo….” Galo straightens up when the realization hits. “You saw the picture of me with the baby!”

Lio blinks before, bizarrely, averting his eyes and bending over his mug. “Yes, well—it was kind of hard to miss.”

“Man, I totally forgot that picture was so popular. So you knew what I looked like before you met me.” Galo scoots closer, trying to catch Lio’s eye. “That’s not fair! There were, like, no pictures of you anywhere before you got to Parnassus.”

“I hope you didn’t find me disappointing,” Lio bites out.

“Why would I find you disappointing?”

“Well, you’re so—” Lio jerks his head up, scanning Galo with narrowed eyes. “So—”

Galo looks down at himself. He’s pretty casual today, jeans and a t-shirt. The shirt is a little form-fitting, but it’s hard to shop for someone with his measurements, so things tend to run small. But he doesn’t think he looks any particular way. “So what?”

Lio snaps his mouth shut and turns forward, bringing the mug up in front of his face. “Nevermind.”

“No, what is it?” Galo presses, worried now. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, you’re fine.” Lio glares into the water rippling against the ceramic. “Just fine.”

“Oh...kay….” Galo concedes reluctantly, tugging self-consciously at the hem of his shirt. “And...uh, anyway...I wasn’t _disappointed_ in you, or whatever. I was just nervous ‘cuz I didn’t know anything about you. But—” he smiles, remembering how floored he’d been by the first glimpse he got of Lio on the train platform. “I’m really glad it was you who got off that train.”

For a beat, Lio goes very still, violet eyes flicking sideways to regard Galo warily. “Thank you,” he mumbles finally.

Galo grins. “Okay! Now—what’s next—” he retrieves his backpack from the floor and roots around in it again. “Oh! This one’s a murder mystery—shit, I thought I gave this back—oh well, let’s do this one now. Cool?”

At Lio’s nod, Galo hurries to start the next movie, and this time when he settles back down on the couch, he parks himself right beside Lio’s blanket nest, close enough that Lio can probably feel the heat of his blush through all the layers.

This film is thankfully much more palatable. He’s seen it before, but fuck him if he remembers who the culprit is, and he’s so absorbed in puzzling out what’s going on that the slight weight against his shoulder takes him by surprise. Glancing down, he sees that Lio must have dozed off at some point and listed sideways, landing against Galo unintentionally.

Quickly, Galo rescues the mug from Lio’s lax fingers, careful not to move too much, and scales the television volume down. Then, after a tense internal argument, he gingerly guides an arm around Lio and gently eases him down until he’s lying properly on the couch, head resting on Galo’s lap. At least this position won’t be hell on his neck, Galo tells himself over the rushing in his ears.

Then he has a mini panic attack trying to figure out where to put his hands while Lio slumbers on, blissfully unaware.

* * *

“You’re gonna hate me.”

Lio looks up from his tablet. He’s finally feeling well enough to actually sit at a desk and work instead of lying around like a block of ice. He's still weighed down by several layers of blankets, though, the cold ever-present. “Thyma, I could never hate you,” he says solemnly.

She grins at something on her phone. “No, you’re gonna hate me.”

Before Lio can inquire further, the tablet chimes with a request for a holocall from Meis and Lio accepts it. When the holoscreen pops up, he’s greeted with a lot of shuffling and motion blur. Someone that sounds like Gueira is shrieking in the background.

After a moment, the image stabilizes into Meis’s face. “What the fuck is going on over there?” he demands loudly.

Lio glances at Thyma, who studiously focuses on the paperwork in front of her. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_—” Meis swears, loud and garbled, and fumbles for something out of frame. The shrieking increases sharply in pitch. “This!”

A little pop-up appears on the screen, buffers for a second, and then expands into a photo. Lio’s grip on his tablet goes white-knuckled.

“Thyma!” he hisses, betrayed.

She lowers her forehead to the desk, shoulders vibrating with silent laughter.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with him!” Meis continues hysterically.

“I never said that,” Lio groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to avoid looking at the photo.

“No, you _said_ the plan was to be hands-off with Prince Galo to minimize _risk_,” Meis says emphatically. “_This—_” he waves his hands around the area of the screen the photo is superimposed, “—is not hands-off!”

It’s the opposite of hands-off. After dozing off during the movie, Lio woke up in bed with Galo already gone and Thyma stifling her laughter every time she looked at him. Upon inquiry, he discovered that she had come back to the suite to find both him and Galo asleep on the sofa and, loyal friend that she is, she snapped a picture to commemorate the moment. The photo itself is impossible to explain away; it shows him, completely asleep, head pillowed on Galo’s thigh, and Galo with his head tilted back against the couch cushions, mouth open and dead to the world. One of Galo’s hands is resting heavily on Lio’s shoulder. Looking at it, Lio can almost feel the weight, though he has no memory of any of this.

It’s not that Lio’s embarrassed that he apparently fell asleep in Galo’s lap, but he’d prefer to keep that information private. Thyma had clearly had other thoughts.

“It was an accident,” he mumbles, hands over his face.

“What was he even doing there?” Meis demands.

Lio drops his hands and crosses his arms on the desk. “Prince Galo has been kind enough to...help me recover from my withdrawal symptoms. We were watching a movie and I fell asleep. There was nothing _untoward_ going on.”

Meis pales visibly. “_Untoward_—?”

“No, I said _nothing—_”

A hand reaches into frame and shoves Meis aside and a loud clatter accompanies the appearance of Gueira’s wild-eyed face. “Don’t tell me you two are _dating_ now?” he shouts.

“What? We’ve known each other for two weeks!”

“Then _why_ is he _nursing_ you?”

Lio pushes an agitated hand through his hair. “I would _not_ put it that way—”

“I would,” Thyma mutters.

Lio shoots her a glare while Meis struggles to get back in front of the camera.

“But you two _are_ watching movies together?” Meis emphasizes.

“It was his idea, I didn’t—”

“You won’t even watch movies with us,” Gueria moans, burying his face in his hands.

Lio blinks. “I didn’t know you wanted to—”

“Yeah, how exactly is it _hands-off_ to cuddle with him on the couch watching movies?” Meis entreats.

“There was no cuddling!” Lio insists, face warming. “It was a coincidence! And Thyma happened to come in and take a photo, which I expressly instructed her to keep _private_—” he snaps, glaring at Thyma. “That is _all_.”

Meis settles down a little at that, still regarding the camera with suspicion, but Gueira flops out of frame, wailing dramatically. A sharp jab from Meis cuts the wailing off abruptly.

“It’s nothing to get worked up about,” Lio continues, tugging the blanket around his shoulders a little tighter. “I’ve been stuck here dealing with the withdrawal and Prince Galo has insisted on keeping me company.”

“Sorry, Boss,” Meis mutters, looking a little contrite. “It’s just...you always seemed so adamant that you wouldn’t...get involved with Prince Galo.”

“Yes, well—” Lio presses his lips together, eyes straying to the office doorway and the living room beyond it. “I didn’t really anticipate his determination to _get involved_ with me.” Meis opens his mouth and Lio snaps back to the screen. “_Not_ like that. He’s just...a little more dependable than I think I gave him credit for.”

Meis whistles. “That’s high praise, coming from you.”

“Apparently he’s the _only_ dependable one around here,” Lio grumbles.

Thyma smiles blithely at him. “I’m just relieved to see you two getting along.”

“Hello?” Gueira cuts in, sitting back up into view. “Am I the only one who thinks this looks like more than _getting along_?”

“Oh, drop it, Gueira,” Thyma says. “Would you rather them be fighting?”

Gueira pouts. “I guess not.”

“So it’s fine.” Thyma leans her cheek against her hand. “I’ll admit, I was worried about Prince Galo, just based on what we knew of him beforehand. I thought he was going to be a self-aggrandizing jerk. But he’s actually really sweet. Right, Lio?”

Lio busies his hands with the papers strewn across the desk. “He is kind, I suppose.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s super hot,” Thyma giggles.

Lio presses his lips together while Gueira makes an exaggerated retching sound. “I’m leaving the call if you’re just gonna gossip about boys.”

“No one asked you to call anyway.”

“You sent us that photo! What did you expect—!”

Lio barely hears their bickering, too focused on keeping his mind away from thoughts about how _super hot_ Galo is. Or isn’t. Lio very deliberately hasn’t been thinking about it, and he’s not now. He’s not remembering how solid Galo’s arms felt under him when he was hefted unceremoniously into the living room, or the gleam in Galo’s eyes when he presented his homemade soup, or his excited little gestures as he spoke about being a firefighter, or the inexorable warmth of him just inches away—

He’s not thinking about it so hard that he almost misses Meis’s question.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked how you were feeling,” Meis repeats. “You’re awake, which is good.”

“Yes, I’m awake,” Lio sighs tiredly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m getting better. We’ve had to rearrange the schedule and we’re still not sure when we’ll be leaving, but hopefully now that I’m capable of staying conscious, this will burn out quickly.”

“Okay, but how do you _feel_?”

“Cold.” A shiver wracks through him for emphasis and Thyma stands up, collecting his empty mug and heading for the kitchen.

Meis frowns, brows furrowed. “Sorry we can’t be there for you, Boss.”

Gueira droops noticeably.

“I need you exactly where you are,” Lio assures them. “I’m fine. It’s unpleasant, but I anticipated this. Since it’s this bad, with any luck, it won’t trigger again when we return to Promepolis after the tour. We won’t stay as long that time.”

“Yeah, after that you’ll be toting your new hubby all the way home to start a life of wedded political bliss,” Gueira drawls.

“Right,” Lio says flatly.

“Seriously though—” Gueira scoots closer to the screen, his gaze intent. “What’s up over there?”

Lio quirks an eyebrow. “Up?”

“Like, this—” Gueira points at the photo, reminding Lio with a rush of heat that it’s still on the screen, “—is unlike you, Boss.”

Lio rubs his temple. “I already explained what happened—”

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s weird,” Gueira interrupts stubbornly. “Boss, you’re the most private person I’ve ever met. We were working with you for years before we learned your _age_. You met this guy two weeks ago and you’re falling asleep with him on the couch?”

“What exactly do you think is going on, Gueira?” Lio asks, exasperated. “You think he tricked me into it? To blackmail me with an embarrassing photo?”

Gueira blinks. “I...I don’t—”

“Look, he said it was an accident, didn’t he?” Meis scowls. “It’s not like he’s actually _into_ the prince or anything. Right, Boss?”

Lio glances away.

“Boss!?” Gueira screeches.

“It’s _not_ like that,” Lio hurries to explain. “Galo and I….” he casts about for the right words. “We came to...an understanding.”

Meis narrows his eyes. “What kind of understanding?”

“It’s complicated. The important part is that the hands-off plan failed, but it’s fine.”

“Boss—” Gueira shakes his head. “He’s not pressuring you into anything, is he?”

“Gueira!”

“No, Boss—” Meis joins in, “—if he tries to leverage his position—”

“Galo would _never_ do that,” Lio snaps. “And I never want to hear that kind of speculation again, is that clear?”

Gueira and Meis recoil a little, eyes wide. After a second, Meis deflates. “Got it, Boss,” he mumbles.

Gueira scratches his cheek. “Yeah, got it. Sorry.”

“Good.” Lio shifts his weight. He rarely has to get stern with his lieutenants, but it has happened, and he can’t afford for that kind of language to get around in Promare. “Frankly, my relationship with Prince Galo is my business. But I...understand that you’re worried about me. I know that it hasn’t been very long, but I have my reasons for trusting him. On that front, you don’t need to be concerned. I don’t know what things will be like when we get back to Promare, but—” Lio drums his fingers on the desk, trying to fit Galo into the puzzle of his small social circle. “—I think you’ll like him.”

Gueira retches again.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that, Boss,” Meis says morosely.

“Regardless, I expect you to get along with him.”

They both grumble in acquiescence as Thyma enters the room with a freshly steaming mug. She sets it on the desk and reshuffles a stack of paper.

“Thank you, Thyma. Now—get that off the screen,” he orders, pointing at the photo.

Meekly, Meis exits out of the pop-up and Lio relaxes a bit.

“Okay. Since you called, I need to go over a few things regarding my latest email.”

Gueira groans.

* * *

The train station is packed and Galo is nervous.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay to go?”

Lio, sitting across from him in the limo as they slowly wind their way through the gathered crowd, frowns. “Galo, if you ask me again, I’ll—”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” Galo rubs the back of his neck. He can’t help being concerned, after seeing Lio so sick for an entire week. But he insisted he was feeling back to normal and that they couldn’t waste any more time. The strict tour schedule had already been pushed back almost past the point of recovery, but Galo just hopes Lio isn’t pushing himself for the sake of appearances. Publically, they claimed the tour was delayed for logistical reasons, but Lio had pointed out that people would start asking questions if they waited any longer. He says he’s feeling better, and Galo has to trust him.

He does _look_ better, at least, the sickly pallor of his skin returned to its normal pale shade. He’s no longer trembling with internal cold, thought Galo still doesn’t think he’s reached his previous furnace-level body temperature yet. He’s warmer than he was, though, so Galo will take it. And the weakness seems to be gone as well. Lio’s been his usual intense, waspish self since Galo met him at the hotel this morning.

Now, folded into his seat, legs crossed, and dressed for traveling in tight black jeans and a dark grey turtleneck, Lio is exuding his original amount of _don’t fuck with me_ energy as he squints out the window at the people lining the driveway, so Galo figures it’ll probably be fine. Hopefully.

In fact, he wishes he looked half as good as the guy who was bedridden less than a week ago. Next to Lio’s polished casual fashion, his jeans and sweatshirt look really out of place. But he’s about to sit on a train for four hours, so fuck it. At least his hair looks decent.

“My friends are looking forward to meeting you,” he says, feeling the need to fill the silence. It’s just the two of them, Thyma gone on ahead to make sure things go smoothly, and despite how much time they’ve spent together the past week, the anticipation of the day is making him jumpy. “Sorry it took so long.”

Lio looks at him. “Are they all waiting at the station?”

“Yeah. A couple of them are coming along as security for the first part. Can’t be away from the station for _too_ long.” Aina had more or less insisted that she be included in the security detail, ostensibly so she could _keep an eye_ on Galo to makes sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, and Varys volunteered to tag along as well. Galo is grateful for it; he likes Lio and Thyma, but his teammates are just different. “They’re super cool, though. You’ll like them.”

“Really?”

“Totally!” Galo grins.

“Are they like you?”

“Nah, they’re all really different. But they’re nice, most of the time, and they’re probably sick as hell of hearing me talk about you,” Galo laughs.

Lio sits up a little, uncrossing his legs. “You talk about me?”

“Yeah, dude, like, all the time. Nice stuff, I swear,” Galo assures him. “And it’s not like they’re not curious. Lots of people want to know more about you.”

Lio frowns. “That’s—”

“But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything private or embarrassing.” Not that Lio really has any dirty laundry, as far as Galo can tell. He told his team the truth about Lio being sick, confident that they would keep it to themselves, but he didn’t mention the details Lio shared about his past, instead finding himself reminiscing about Lio’s sharp tongue and extreme spice tolerance and the way he tilts his head when he’s thinking—

Like he’s doing now. “I’m not sure how I feel about you gossiping about me,” Lio hums.

“Not gossiping!” Galo insists, leaning forward indignantly. “I don’t gossip!”

The corner of Lio’s mouth quirks up. “I know.”

Galo huffs. “Man, you and Lucia really will get along. She’s mean to me too.”

Lio raises a gloved hand to his lips, covering an inelegant snort, and Galo’s stomach does a little flip.

The car glides to a stop and Galo tenses. Lio regards him critically. “Are you sure _you’re_ okay to go?”

“Uh—yeah—” Galo breathes in deeply through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to center himself. When he looks again, Lio is sitting forward, preparing to get out of the limo, gaze still fixed on him. The pale purple of his eyes glows like a beacon in the dim interior of the car. “I’m good. This is it, huh?”

“It?”

“Well—” Galo bounces his leg anxiously, “—it’s really happening now, right? This whole...married thing,” his voice drops, the words still a little embarrassing to say out loud.

Lio cocks his head. “We’ve been married for a week now.”

“Yeah, but we were married in your hotel room. Now we’re gonna be married in front of...everyone.”

“Did you forget this was coming?”

“I didn’t forget! I just—” Galo drags a hand down his face. “It’s been nice, you know? Just the two of us. Kinda wish we had more time.”

Lio makes a quiet choking noise and Galo furrows his eyebrows in concern. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together over the next month,” Lio says, as smoothly as always. “You’ll get sick of it soon enough.”

“I won’t! Well, I probably won’t.” Galo bites his lip.

“Is something else wrong?” Lio’s words are clipped, but Galo can see in the thin line of his mouth that he’s being genuine.

“Just—” Galo swallows. “I wanna do a good job. I don’t wanna embarrass you, or Kray. I wanna make sure everyone knows how cool you are. This is so different from what I usually do...I just don’t want to mess it up.”

Lio frowns. “Weren’t you the one who said we were in this together?”

Galo blinks. “Huh?”

“You talk like you’re the only one going out there, but I promised that we’d do this together, remember?” Lio leans toward him, reaching across the distance between them. Galo watches, heart in his throat, as Lio lays on gloved hand on his knee, stilling it instantly. “We agreed we wouldn’t force it, right?”

“Right,” Galo croaks.

“I’m...worried about those things too,” Lio admits, looking like he’s thinking very hard about his words. “But no matter what people think of us...we’re married.”

Galo swears Lio is burning a hand-shaped mark into his knee.

“So we’ll just...do our best.” Lio blows out a sharp breath. “I mean—what I’m trying to say—”

“I get it.” Galo gathers Lio’s hand in his, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his face. The knowledge that Lio took their promise so seriously makes his chest swell with joy. “We’re there for each other, right?”

Lio gazes at him steadily. “Do you still want that?”

“Of course, dude!” The urge to lean forward and crush Lio in an elated hug nearly bowls Galo over, but he settles for squeezing Lio’s hand, grinning. “You were right—there’s no point in worrying. Whatever happens, we’re married now. Let’s do our best together, Lio!”

After a second of blinking, Lio smiles back. It’s a small thing, but it makes Galo’s heart soar. “Yeah.”

A knock on the window alerts them that the chauffeur is ready to open the door. Galo glances down at their joined hands.

“Uh—do you—do you wanna…?”

“Hold hands?” Lio finishes with an eyebrow lift.

Galo feels blood rush to his face. “Yeah, I just thought—”

“Fine.”

“Wha—really?”

“Yes.” Lio tucks a strand of hair behind his ear with his free hand. “It’s crowded out there. We don’t want to get separated.”

“Yeah! Of course!” Galo knows he looks like an idiot, smiling so wide at something so small, but he doesn’t care.

“Alright then.” Lio tightens his grip. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” Galo echoes.

Lio taps on the glass in response and a second later the door is swinging open, letting in a wave of flashing lights and thunderous noise.

Heart pounding for reasons completely unrelated to the tour, Galo follows Lio into the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Plot is going to make a comeback soon so please look forward to that lmao.
> 
> also I'm on twitter now! @MistressEast i'm not very good at it but i'm trying.
> 
> EDIT bc I forgot to share some links:
> 
> go check out my dear friend and sounding board [TextReciprocation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextReciprocation/pseuds/)! He just finished a promare soulmate au and he's just the best.
> 
> also if you're not already reading [i do, i do by arahir](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715893/chapters/49212539), then uhhhh fix that.
> 
> no idea when the next chapter will be, but it's happening so stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five things Lio learns about Galo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!! this was originally going to be about half of chapter 5, but it spiraled out of control and was on track to be way longer than the other chapters, so you'll see Galo's list next time uwu.
> 
> before we start, i want to point out that when Lio is upset that his people are being characterized as superstitious and shamanic, he in no way thinks those are negative attributes; he's just frustrated because it's an inaccurate assessment. for my own peace of mind, i wanted to make that clear. 
> 
> finally, thank you so so so much to everyone who has commented and kudos'd and bookmarked and all of that. it truly means the world to me that people are enjoying this and connecting with my writing. you all deserve wonderful things and i can't wait to share the rest of this story with you!! okay that's more rambling than a 5k chapter deserves lmao please enjoy!

Traveling with Galo is a learning experience.

Lio feels like he got a decent measure of Galo’s character during the week they spent cooped up in his hotel room, but he recognizes that Galo was very focused on him during that time. Now, out in the real world, a good portion of Galo’s attention is still noticeably directed at Lio, like a shaft of sunlight, but he’s much more _himself_. And Lio keeps extensive mental notes.

1\. Galo falls asleep quickly on trains.

They usually share a VIP compartment during the longer journeys between cities, and Lio watches as every time, without fail, Galo goes from babbling excitedly about something or other to completely unconscious against the window or stretched out on the seat in minutes. It’s honestly impressive. Lio could never imagine being so relaxed in a public space, as heavily guarded as they may be. But Galo’s obvious ease with both the situation and Lio’s presence is soothing in its own way. More than once, Lio finds himself setting aside his work just to watch Galo snore softly across from him. And he makes sure to shush anyone who comes by. For as quickly as he drops off, Galo is a surprisingly light sleeper.

“That’s what firefighter training does to you,” Aina whispers, standing in the compartment doorway, hands on her hips and shaking her head fondly at Galo’s slumped figure. “You gotta be ready to go at any time.”

“I see.”

Galo had been right about Lio liking his friends. The whole group is colorful and sharp, clearly affectionate with each other and intensely suspicious of Lio, which seemed to fly directly over Galo’s head. Lio instantly approved of them. Somewhere between Captain Ignis squeezing his hand just a little too firmly and Galo saying a tearful goodbye to the members he was leaving behind, the team seemed to decide Lio wasn’t a threat and loosened up considerably.

He likes Aina in particular. She’s professional but sweet, cheerful but no-nonsense. She warms to Lio quickly, seemingly relieved to have someone else willing to temper Galo’s boisterousness, which only increases when he’s around his close friend and teammate Varys. They egg each other on. But Aina is used to their antics and handles Galo with a practiced ease that’s almost enough to make Lio envious.

Now, Aina checks her watch. “We’ll be arriving soon, so wake him in a few, okay?”

“Understood.”

She giggles quietly. “I’ve gotta go get changed into my uniform, so I’ll see you when we stop.” With a last indulgent glance at Galo, she heads off.

Lio’s eyes trail her until she disappears from sight.

He’s only known Aina for a few days, but he’d have to be stupid to miss how she looks at Galo.

Galo seems unaware, but sometimes it’s hard to tell what Galo really knows. On the surface, he comes across as blithe and little air-headed, but he’s remarkably perceptive, as Lio knows all too well. But for some reason, Lio doesn’t think Galo knows about Aina’s feelings. If he did, inviting her to accompany his honeymoon tour was an incredibly cruel thing to do, and Galo would never be so callous.

Where these strong convictions of Galo’s gallantry are coming from, Lio has no idea, and he shakes the thoughts away as he kicks Galo in the shin to wake him.

2\. Galo is not a very good texter.

Now that they’re traveling together, and married, it only makes sense for them to exchange numbers, and Lio isn’t sure if he regrets it or not. Galo’s texts are usually riddled with typos that his phone’s autocorrect just can’t make heads or tails of and often accompanied by an incomprehensible image. It’s mildly irritating to have to decode a scrambled missive when Galo should have met them in the lobby _ten minutes ago_, but Galo’s bizarre correspondence is a welcome distraction when Lio is trapped listening to this or that politician drone on about stuff he already knows.

Gueira’s texts are similarly illegible, so Lio supposes he should be used to it.

At every hotel, they stay in the same suite but in different rooms, and one night Lio blinks awake to the light of his phone as it buzzes with a message. He grabs it quickly, worried about a late night emergency, only to find a picture from Galo.

It’s a grainy image of what appears to be a crab that has somehow obtained a lit lighter and is clutching it in one claw. The text that follows seconds later reads _is this u???_

Lio squints at the screen.

Before he can even formulate a response, another text pops up.

_get it bc ur a craba dn you can light things osn fire_

Frowning, Lio taps out: _It’s 3 am._

Galo’s typing bubble pops up immediately and Lio casts a disbelieving look at the wall separating their rooms, imagining Galo lying awake on the other side.

_Sry did i wake u??_

Of course he did? It’s the middle of the night? _Yes, now go to sleep._ Lio shoves his phone decisively under the pillow and rolls over.

A second later, he fishes it out again.

_What do you mean I’m a crab?_

Galo responds almost instantly, _bc ur prickly and u pinch me somwtiems_

_I only pinch you if you deserve it._

_i wuld trust a crb to kno who to pinch_

Against his will, Lio feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He quickly banishes it. _Go to sleep, Galo._

_Ur up too yknow_

Huffing, Lio shoves himself upright and bangs his fist once against the wall behind the headboard.

After a beat, an answering thump sounds from the other side.

Satisfied for some reason, Lio settles down and goes back to sleep, his phone nestled on the pillow beside him.

3\. Galo is tactile.

Lio supposes he knew this one already, given Galo’s easy touches while Lio was ill, but Lio assumed that was a symptom of Galo’s surprisingly nurturing nature pushed to the extreme. In reality, Galo was _holding back_ during that week. Allowing Galo to hold his hand upon their departure from Promepolis opened a floodgate of casual contact. A hand on Lio’s back; careful fingers fixing Lio’s hair; a tap against Lio’s foot under the table; the list is endless.

A gesture that Galo seems particularly fond of is holding his arm out for Lio to take when they disembark a train or get out of a car together. It’s completely unnecessary, since Lio is fully capable of guiding himself and more often than not knows where they’re going better than Galo does. Nevertheless, Lio can’t seem to refuse the impulse to hook his hand around Galo’s elbow every time he offers.

Lio wouldn’t call himself touch-averse, he just doesn’t think about it too much. He was alone from a pretty early age, and the people he fell in with weren’t exactly the affectionate type. The military was what it was, and Gueira and Meis, while the closest, most trusted companions he’s ever had, still look to him as a revered leader before anything else. Thyma is a little more openly affectionate, but she behaves similarly. They’re friendly and casual but always ready to pull back at the slightest sign that Lio isn’t happy, which Lio appreciates, but it means he doesn’t have a lot of experience with touch. Galo Thymos is all warm hands and rough skin, bridging the gap between them with a million little points of contact, and Lio knows that one word from him would stop all of it, but now that he’s actually faced with it, he finds he doesn’t mind the touching.

The first major city they visit after leaving the capital is eager to welcome them with a lavish dinner and a presentation by the governor detailing their commitment to unity with Promare. It’s a nice sentiment, and Lio puts himself on his best behavior, a resolution that quickly falls under strain as the evening begins.

The governor seems to have no actual knowledge of the treaty or Promare as a nation, and even his understanding of the war is insultingly shaky. It only takes a few words before Lio is clenching his fists in his lap, leather gloves creaking. If this was an interview or some sort of proper conversation, Lio wouldn’t hesitate to correct the man with a vengeance, but what can he do now? Charge up onstage and assert that his people are not a superstitious race of shamanic tribes? Lio can only imagine the headlines that would follow.

When the governor asserts his desire to help Promare “industrialize,” Lio grits his teeth and stares fixedly at his untouched plate of food. The people of Promepolis, while arrogant, were at least knowledgeable about the generalities of Lio’s country, but it shouldn’t surprise Lio that Parnassus as a whole isn’t. But indicating that his people view him as some sort of child prophet is insulting beyond measure.

Something knocks his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts, and he glances over to see Galo leaning close, brows furrowed in concern.

_You okay?_ he mouths.

Lio collects himself and nods curtly, sitting up in his chair.

Galo looks doubtful, but he leans back into his own space.

Lio takes a deep breath.

An excruciating amount of time later, Lio storms into their hotel suite, nearly ablaze with repressed fury. “That pompous son of a—” he breaks off on a growl, tearing his suit jacket off and flinging it onto the sofa.

Galo strides in after him, quickly shutting the door. “Yeah, what the fuck was that?”

“I certainly hope this isn’t what Parnassus teaches in its schools!” Lio fumes, pacing the length of the living room on stiff legs. “The _arrogance_—I can hardly believe—!” he bites back his next words, knowing he can’t control his volume right now, and he doesn’t want Galo to think he’s yelling at _him_.

“Dude, I promise, I had no idea what that guy was talking about.” Galo strips off his own jacket and pops the top button on his shirt, frowning. “I’ve never heard that shit before, even on the border—”

“It was absolutely—masturbatory!” Lio spits, whirling on his heel and stomping back the way he came. “The—the thought that Promare would ever need the help of such—the condescension!” He can’t even form a complete sentence, anger making his tongue skip. “It makes me _sick_ to my stomach—”

“Tell me about it,” Galo groans. “Put me off my food.”

Lio spins around again, pacing back toward him, hands clutching at his hair. “As if I could ever eat anything served by such a despot—”

“Hey, let’s go out!”

The casual words stop Lio clean in his tracks. “What?” he asks.

“For food!” Galo grins and pulls out his phone, tapping something into it. “Neither of us got to eat, and Varys told me there was a really good ramen place somewhere around here. He used to live in town. We should go! The night’s still young.”

Fury doused momentarily, Lio raises an eyebrow at Galo, releasing his hair to cross his arms. “You...you and me?”

Galo makes a show of looking around the expansive hotel suite. “You’re the only other one here,” he teases.

“The security team is still—”

“We’ll be fine on our own for a while,” Galo says dismissively, eyes back on his phone. “If we keep our heads down, it’ll be cool. Besides, you’re the big strong Burnish leader, right? You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

Flushing inexplicably, Lio finds himself unable to protest as Galo urges him to change into a hoodie and ushers him downstairs and out of the hotel, stealthily avoiding their entourage in the lobby. Galo assures him he texted Varys and Aina, however, so they won’t panic when they find the hotel room empty.

The streets are manageable this late at night, and they escape notice by keeping their hoods pulled up until they reach the small, brightly lit storefront of, what Galo assures him is the best ramen in the city, according to Varys’s discerning taste. Fortunately, the shop is nearly empty and the owner doesn’t bat an eye when Galo and Lio remove their hoods and take seats at the long bar table. Either he doesn’t know who they are or he doesn’t care.

“Oh shit, have you ever had ramen before?” Galo asks, glancing over the menu, handwritten on a board on the wall.

“We have something similar in Promare, but I’ve never had Parnassan ramen before, no.”

“That’s perfect! Okay, let’s see, what would be good—”

At Lio’s go-ahead, Galo takes to selecting their food with single-minded determination, and he nearly bounces with excitement after putting in their orders.

“Is this really something to get so worked up about?” Lio questions, folding his arms on the bartop and watching him with faint amusement.

“Dude, nothing beats some good food after a shitty day,” Galo grins back. “You’ll see. You’ll forget all about that asshole in no time.”

Somehow, Lio doubts that, but he recognizes Galo’s efforts and suspects the bubbly feeling in his chest has little to do with the bowls of ramen being placed in front of them.

The set Galo ordered him is pleasantly spicy and just as delicious as Varys promised. Against Lio’s will, he does feel his ire fade as he sits beside Galo in the warm shop, snorting at the sight of Galo trying to shove too many dumplings in his mouth at once and satisfying the hunger he didn’t even feel until the scent of hot soup wafted over him.

By the time they leave the shop, strolling down the dim, deserted street, Galo is halfway through a story involving his team and a false alarm triggered by a family of raccoons, and Lio’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

“—but we couldn’t just leave them there either!” Galo gesticulates wildly, painting the picture of a group of wily raccoons hunched in the rafters of an old church.

“So you used your expensive fire fighting mechs to catch a bunch of rodents?” Lio laughs.

“No!” Galo grins. “We used a ladder.”

“All the way up in the rafters?”

“Lucia stood on my shoulders.”

“She didn’t.”

“She did!”

“She seems too smart to trust you to hold her up like that.”

Galo gasps in false affront. “I’m very dependable!”

Lio rolls his eyes. “This and that are different.”

“I can hold _you_!”

“I’m not exactly—” before Lio can finish, he feels arms lock around his middle and then his feet are off the ground. “Galo—!”

The sound of Galo’s laughter rings in his ears and the world inverts around him as he’s hoisted like a sack of potatoes over one broad shoulder, too surprised to resist. “That’s what you get for doubting me!”

Fisting his hands in the back of Galo’s hoodie, Lio struggles to push himself upright. “You’re drawing attention,” he hisses, cheeks burning.

Galo just keeps walking, hardly a hitch in his stride, and tightens his grip when Lio tries to kick him. “There’s no one out this late,” he says blithely. “You’re being punished.”

“Ugh.” Lio covers his face with his hands and wonders how he got here, hanging upside down over Galo Thymos’s shoulder. He hopes his blush is just the result of all the blood rushing to his head. “Okay, fine,” he mutters, voice muffled. “You’re a strong, dependable firefighter. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Galo hums. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Lio digs his fingers into the muscle under Galo's shoulder blade and pinches.

“Owowow—” Galo flinches, still laughing. “Alright, I get it—”

In one fluid movement, Galo swings Lio back to the ground with two hands on his hips. His grip lingers after Lio touches down and Lio’s hands freeze momentarily on Galo’s shoulders. The streetlights carve deep shadows around them, casting Galo’s smiling face half gold. “Crabby,” he pouts theatrically. His hair is disordered, falling across his forehead messily and it feels like second nature for Lio to reach up and brush it to one side.

Galo blinks, expression flickering, and Lio has a split-second of panic before there are hands in his own hair, patting it down.

“You too,” Galo giggles. “You’re all fluffy.”

Lio scowls. “And whose fault is that?”

Galo’s eyes glint. “Mine.” He ruffles Lio’s hair intentionally.

“Hey—!”

“Come on!” Galo catches Lio’s hand and tugs him forward. “I’ll race you back!”

“It—It’s not a race if you’re holding my hand!” But Lio is helpless to do anything but follow.

4\. Galo is deceptively intelligent.

Admittedly, Lio is a little embarrassed that he initially wrote Galo off as a muscle-bound idiot. It was never an active opinion, since Lio tried very hard at the beginning to have no opinions about Galo at all, but he took Galo’s appearance for granted and didn’t stop to think beyond his initial assumptions. It didn’t really matter, he told himself. Galo is who he is, and Lio thought it was his responsibility to keep him happy, whatever that might involve. It wasn’t like he expected them to get along.

Of course, he realized almost instantly, upon actually speaking to Galo, that there’s more going on in that spiky blue head than just firefighting and hair products. He either intentionally downplays his intelligence or he genuinely doesn’t think of himself as smart, but in addition to his surprising emotional maturity, Galo is font of highly specific, very enthusiastic information.

“—but the point wasn’t to put out the fire, it was to tear down the buildings around the fire so it would have nowhere to spread to, and then—”

A stagehand signals to Lio that they have five minutes but Lio barely registers it, caught up in Galo’s detailed explanation.

“So what is the purpose of the flags?”

Galo sits forward, eyes shining. “The matoi were like these emblems that were specific to each group, so when one would roll up to a fire, someone would climb up as high as they could and plant the matoi so other groups would know who was already on the scene.”

“Then what?” Lio asks.

“Then!” Galo waves his hands emphatically. “They’d soak their clothing in water and fight the fires by hand!”

“Please tell me you don’t do that.”

“Not if I don’t have to.” Eyes gleaming, Galo leans into Lio’s space. “This one time, when I was new on the force, I was on a training mission, and things went south and I knew I had to get in there, but my gear wasn’t ready yet—”

Lio frowns. “Oh, no—”

“So I dumped a bunch of flame retardant gel on myself and and bust in!”

“...did it work?”

“Yeah, it worked great! Well, mostly great.” Galo pats his left bicep, currently covered with an expensive suit jacket. “Dunno if you saw, but I’ve got a scar on most of this arm.”

Lio did notice but never thought it polite to mention. Non-Burnish people are just delicate, right? “You got burned?”

“Yeah. I had to wear a medical sleeve for over a month to regenerate the skin,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s recalling a silly accident instead of what sounds like a very traumatic injury. “I got written up and I wasn’t even an active member yet!”

Lio crosses his arms, smiling despite himself. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you, Galo Thymos?”

Galo scoffs. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

It takes Lio a second to parse his words. “I...I wouldn’t...well—I—”

“You can’t even deny it!”

Brows furrowed, Lio turns away from Galo’s smug grin. “I wouldn’t be in that situation to begin with.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Don’t act like you know everything.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Galo leans forward even further, almost unseating himself to force Lio to match his glittering gaze. “I’m figuring you out.”

Lio rolls his eyes.

Humming, Galo cups his chin in a theatrical thinking motion. “Yeah, I’m getting pretty close. You act all composed but I bet you’re totally the type to completely lose it after a certain point. You’d be right there beside me.”

Lio hates Galo’s utter surety almost as much as he hates how justified it is. While his military career wasn’t long, Lio did gain something of a reputation for recklessness. It used to drive Gueira and Meis crazy. They said it was concern but Lio always thought they were just jealous they’d been unseated as the wildest Burnish in the border units.

Before he can do more than squint pointedly at Galo, the stagehand is gesturing again and they’re both being herded onstage.

Lio spends the entire interview struggling to keep his mind from straying to thoughts of ancient firefighters, but he can’t stop his gaze from lingering on Galo’s left sleeve, picturing the scar coiled beneath it.

5\. Galo doesn’t care what people think about him.

That’s not to say Galo doesn’t like attention, because he does. Lio distinctly remembers that the one thing he didn’t struggle with in the press junket leading up to the wedding was dealing with the crowds. He likes talking to people and he loves when people praise his firefighting accomplishments. He puffs up with pride at the very mention of his team, and he’s always got plenty of beaming grins ready for groups of curious onlookers. But Galo couldn’t care less about what people think of him.

The media reaction to their wedding and the treaty in general ranges from enthusiastically supportive to sarcastically accepting to openly suspicious. Lio and Galo are both victims of increasingly creative mockery from the press and public alike, and even Kray can’t escape the court of public opinion. Depending on where you get your news, Lio is either a dedicated young prodigy or a naive child bride; Galo is either a noble self-sacrificing prince or an ignorant bargaining chip; and Kray is either a dutiful king or a weak yes-man being manipulated by Lio, who is somehow simultaneously too young to lead and pulling all the strings—and it just gets more convoluted the deeper you go.

Things get even weirder as the honeymoon tour really gets underway. No one is under any illusions that this is a love match, and news outlets seemed primed to cash in on what would surely be a strained relationship riddled with rumors of infidelity, but then the unthinkable occurred:

Prince Galo Thymos and Regent Lio Fotia started getting along.

Truly, nothing could be worse, Lio realizes, scrolling through dozens of disbelieving articles regarding his and Galo’s relationship, barely scanning the headlines.

_Who Do They Think They’re Fooling?_

_Political Romance Turned Real_

_Faking It For The Cameras?_

And so on and so on, accompanied by various sneaky photos of him and Galo with arms linked or sitting closely.

“Oh, hey—” Galo appears over Lio’s shoulder, peering at Lio’s tablet. “Did you see the one about how you’re secretly an assassin plotting to kill me and all of Parliament?”

“Yes, Thyma sent it to me.” With a whole row of thumbs-up emojis.

“They made some pretty good points.”

Lio side-eyes him. “Are you concerned?”

Galo tilts his head. “Should I be?”

Lio holds his gaze for a beat before a small smile tugs at his mouth. “No comment.” He sets the tablet aside as Galo snickers. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, actually—” Galo straightens up. “Aina’s sis came to see her and she wants to meet you.”

“Her sister?”

“Yeah, she was traveling for work so she decided to stop by on her way back to Promepolis. You’ve probably heard of her—Heris Ardebit? She’s the head researcher at Foresight Labs.”

A cold shock zips down Lio’s spine. Of course he’s heard of her; Heris Ardebit was a frequent fixture of his intelligence reports. He’d never heard Aina’s last name before now, so he didn’t connect them. Why would the head of Foresight Labs want to meet him? “I...see.”

“Come on, come on—” Galo urges, clearly excited.

Lio follows him out of the suite and into the elevator, brain whirring. “Do you know Dr. Ardebit well?”

Galo jams the button for the lobby repeatedly. “I mean, we’re not best friends, but we get along. She’s super cool and crazy smart. She hasn’t been around much since she got promoted, though.”

“When was that?”

“Must have been around—” Galo counts on his fingers, “—about a month before the treaty was proposed.”

“Hm.”

Heris Ardebit looks like her sister, their similar face shape and identical hair color obvious as they stand beside each other, but while Aina radiates a firm sort of poise, Heris seems to fold into herself. Dressed conservatively in dark clothes and exuding timid energy, she nevertheless smiles and allows Galo to sweep her into what Lio knows is a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s been a while, Galo,” she says, sounding genuinely glad to see him, as he releases her.

“Yeah, it has!” Galo agrees before jabbing a thumb in Aina’s direction. “But she never shuts up about you, so I’ve heard all about what you’re up to. Sounds important!”

Aina blushes and smacks a hand against Galo’s back. “Galo!”

Heris puts a hand to her smile as Galo and Aina break into petty bickering.

“Dr. Ardebit,” Lio greets, stepping up to her.

She jumps slightly, taking him in with wide, bespectacled eyes. “R—Regent—” she stammers, starting to bow.

Lio raises a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. And call me Lio.” He extends his raised hand toward her.

Heris blinks before cautiously accepting the handshake. “Then, please, call me Heris.”

“Heris,” Lio nods. “I’ve heard a lot about your achievements.”

Her hand stiffens in his grip and her eyes dart anxiously between his face and Galo, still teasing Aina beside them. Lio’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“And—and I’ve heard about you.” She pulls away and clasps her hands in front of her. “From the news and...and from Aina. She speaks highly of you.”

“Galo speaks highly of you,” Lio replies, studying her closely, trying to decide if her anxiety is natural or induced by something Lio is unaware of. “I look forward to working with you in the future.”

“Right. So do I.” She watches as Galo and Aina move away, now speaking to each other in hushed tones. “How—uh—” she clears her throat, turning back to Lio. “This might be impudent of me, but—how is it? Going?”

Lio raises an eyebrow. “Going?”

“With—” her voice drops, “—Galo?”

“You mean...our marriage?”

She nods, glancing around skittishly.

Lio’s not quite sure how to respond. For all the speculation online, no one actually brings up their private relationship to their faces. It’s more fun to make wild conjecture than learn the almost certainly boring truth, but Lio gets the impression that Heris isn’t asking for gossip material. Her tense body language indicates she’d rather not be asking at all, but she forced the question out like she didn’t have a choice. If she’s trying to gather intel for Kray, she’s not doing a very subtle job.

“Well, it’s—” Lio crosses his arms, considering his words. “Odd, as you might expect. But it’s not unpleasant. Galo is very...unique. To be completely honest, he surprised me.”

Heris raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes. At the beginning, I assumed he wouldn’t want much to do with me or the situation in general, but—” Lio can’t help smiling as he looks over at Galo, who’s now treating Aina to what looks like an impassioned explanation of some sort. “He’s become a very reliable partner. For what it’s worth, I’m glad I married him.” When he turns back to Heris, she looks stricken. “Are you alright?”

She jumps slightly. “Yes, I—” she presses her lips together before leveling him with a much steadier gaze than before. “Do you think you can uphold the treaty?”

Little alarm bells sound in Lio’s head. She’s clearly probing, but why? “Yes,” he responds guardedly. “It will depend on a lot of factors, but Galo and I are committed to the treaty and peace between our countries.” He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you?”

Now that she’s actually looking at him, Lio can see the analytical glint in her eyes. He’s watching her, and she’s watching him back. “Of course,” she answers, quiet but firm.

“In that case, we’ll be working closely.”

“Yes. We will.”

Lio holds her stare for a beat longer, stomach clenching. Then Galo charges back over, all noise and enthusiasm, and Lio can’t think about Heris Ardebeit anymore. Increasingly, he’s finding that, when Galo is nearby, he can think of little else.

Predictably, when Lio is scanning social media the next day, he comes across a sneakily taken photo of their meeting in the lobby. There are decorative ficus leaves creeping into the edges of the picture but they don’t obscure the sight of Galo beaming down at Heris, arms around her in an excited hug. Lio and Aina are also in frame but the picture is clearly centered on Galo and Heris, and the accompanying article makes the intent obvious.

“You’re cheating on me,” Lio announces.

Galo pauses his stirring, looking over his shoulder at Lio, sitting at the breakfast bar. Their suite has a full, luxurious kitchen, which Galo is taking full advantage of at the moment to make...something. “I am?”

Lio holds the tablet out toward him and Galo sets his bowl aside, crossing over to the bar. He peers at the picture and snorts. “Guess I am.”

“People are calling you very mean names online.”

“Because of a hug?” Galo folds his arms on the bar and hangs his head, sighing. “Sorry I’m such a terrible husband, Lio.”

“Yes, I’m furious,” Lio says flatly. He pulls the tablet back toward himself and scrolls through the comments idly. They really aren’t very nice. “Does it bother you at all?”

“Hm?” Galo picks his head up. “What?”

“What they’re saying about you. Not just this, but last week when everyone was digging into your military record, or when that news station insinuated your firefighting commendations were faked.” Lio cocks his head. “Doesn’t it make you angry?”

Galo shrugs. “Why should it? None of it’s true. They say bullshit about you all the time—does it make _you_ angry?”

“I’m the political leader of a formerly hostile nation,” Lio answers easily. “I was fully prepared for slander and gossip. Even in Promare, I am openly reviled by some groups. But before this, you were the beloved and popular son of a well-liked king. I don’t think I saw a single negative word about you until the wedding.” Lio drums his fingers against the back of his tablet. “Some bitterness would be...understandable.”

“Nah, man,” Galo responds instantly. “What would be the point? They can talk all they want—I don’t care what they say about me.” He purses his lips. “I guess I get a little heated when I see some of the shit they say about you, though.”

“What?”

“I know you said you’re prepared or whatever, but—” Galo shifts his weight, leaning more heavily on the bar. “They just make shit up about you, you know? My past is all out there for anyone to see, so if someone says something fake, eventually people will figure out the truth, but you’re so—” he gestures vaguely with one hand. “Mysterious and spooky—”

“I am?”

“—that if they say something, there’s really no way to disprove it. And they _know_ that, so they’ll just keep saying shit and—ugh—” Galo pushes himself upright, mussing his hair restlessly. “_That_ does bother me. Sometimes I wish I could just—” he squeezes his hands in midair. “Make them stop, you know?”

Lio stares at him. Galo couldn’t care less what people think about him, but for _Lio’s_ sake, he— “I do know,” Lio confesses, laying the tablet flat on the bar and lacing his fingers together. “I’m indifferent to people’s opinions of me, but when I see you being misrepresented, I have to admit, I get a little..._heated_ as well.”

Galo blinks. “Uh—” he turns his head to the side, cheeks coloring. “You...you really know how to make a guy feel special, huh?” he mumbles.

Stomach flipping, Lio jolts off his bar stool. “I just said the same thing you did!” he accuses.

“Right—that—uh—” Galo chuckles, scratching his cheek. “I guess you did.”

“Galo Thymos—” blushing furiously, Lio charges around the bar, pointing up at Galo indignantly. “If you are teasing me—”

“No! I’m not!” Galo lunges forward to meet him, grasping his extended hand. “I just—I dunno, hearing that from you—!” His hands enclose Lio’s completely, stopping him in his tracks. “It made me really happy!”

Lio goes rigid, staring up at Galo’s wide, helpless eyes.

“It’s not like I want you to feel angry or anything,” Galo continues. “But, especially after what it was like when we first met, I just—” he smiles like dawn breaking. “I’m so happy we can talk like this now.”

The words come out of Lio without conscious thought: “I...I’m happy too. Your concern for me...I truly never thought we’d come to this point.”

“Right?” Galo’s grip tightens, and his hands may as well be wrapped around Lio’s heart for how it stutters and squeezes in his chest. Suddenly, Galo sobers, smile dropping into a serious frown. “And I’d never cheat on you, you know that, right?”

Slightly off-balance from the rapid shift, Lio opens his mouth wordlessly a few times. “Yes, I know,” he finally gets out. “You already said that.”

“Good.” Galo relaxes. “Just making sure. Anyway!” He releases Lio and steps away, returning to his cooking. “I’m almost done—come taste this!”

Lio shakes his head, schooling his heart back into a regular rhythm. “What is it?” he asks suspiciously, following Galo.

“It’s a surprise, just taste it!”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“You have so little faith in me.”

Traveling with Galo is a learning experience, and as Lio wastes the evening in a hotel kitchen, laughing at Galo’s fruitless efforts to remove batter from the ends of his hair and dodging his playful attempts at retaliation, he finds he wants to keep learning. He wants to know more.

He wants to know everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you can't read Galo's bad texting, his texts go, in order:
> 
> [picture] Is this you?  
Get it, because you're a crab and you can light things on fire.  
Sorry, did I wake you?  
Because you're prickly and you pinch me sometimes.  
I would trust a crab to know who to pinch.  
You're up too, you know.
> 
> also I SWEAR the plot is coming back. next chapter soon! hopefully!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five things Galo learns about Lio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't kidding when i said i'm a slow writer lol. thank you so much for all the kind comments on the last chapter, and every chapter, actually. progress is slow but steady and i find myself taking more and more care as the wordcount climbs bc i have more to keep track of. plus, i'm so in love with this story and i want to make sure i do it justice.
> 
> anyway, enough about me. i promised Galo's list and here it is! enjoy!

Traveling with Lio is a learning experience.

Galo wouldn’t call himself _nosy_ or anything but he tries to pay attention to the people he cares about. He catalogues birthdays and favorite foods and preferred coffee orders because he wants his team to know that he cares about them but he doesn’t go prying into their lives. He can pick out a bad mood almost instantly but he’s content to leave well enough alone if his friends don’t want to share. He remembers things but he doesn’t go looking for them.

Something about Lio, however, makes him want to sit up and pay attention.

After spending nearly a solid week with Lio while he was recovering, Galo feels like he’s finally starting to figure him out, much to Lio’s apparent chagrin. But even then he can tell he’s barely scratched the surface of Lio Fotia, and that simply isn’t enough. A greediness he’s never experienced takes root deep inside him and he finds himself treasuring every new piece of information he gains.

1\. Lio is not a morning person.

Lio’s body wakes up every morning at seven a.m. without an alarm. He can get up earlier if he needs to, but when left to his own devices he wakes up at seven on the dot. Lio’s brain, on the other hand, doesn’t show up until nearly an hour later.

Since they sleep in different rooms and get ready separately, Galo wouldn’t even know this if it hadn’t been for that damn party.

The party itself was terrible; thrown by some CEO with a vested interest in government affairs, it was way too high-end for Galo to feel anything approaching comfortable and came after hours of stressful traveling. His suit was too tight, the room was too hot, the food was boring, Aina and Varys were stationed outside, and he and Lio were separated almost the entire time. It was all Galo could do to stay polite and even from across the room he could tell Lio was struggling too. 

The whole thing lasted way too long and by the time Galo and Lio finally staggered back to their hotel suite, they were almost too exhausted for words. It was a miracle Galo even made it to a bedroom, nevermind which one it was, and by the time he realized he was technically in the wrong bed, it was too late. His shoes and suit jacket were on the floor and Lio was stretched out beside him on his stomach, face pressed into a pillow and completely asleep.

Galo remembers staring blearily at Lio’s hair, falling over his face and glowing mint in the moonlight seeping in through the window, and thinking he should really get up and go to his own room.

Next thing he knows, he’s blinking awake in the creeping sunlight, curled around something warm and _breathing_. 

He remembers himself just in time to keep from flailing comedically out of bed, but it’s a near miss. Instead, he shifts carefully, looking down and confirming that, yes, his dumb ass did wrap itself around Lio during the night. Lio is, fortunately, still asleep, breathing evenly on his back, apparently unperturbed by the heavy arm thrown around his middle. They’re both still in their dress shirts and slacks, belts and everything, but, weirdly, Galo feels more well rested than he has since the tour started.

Mindful not to disturb Lio, Galo fishes his phone out of his pocket, finding it low on charge, and notes that it’s just before seven in the morning. He groans quietly, crumpling back against the mattress. He should get up, but the weariness from the night before is still heavy in his bones, and the radius of Lio’s body heat is oddly comforting, like heat therapy or something. That’s a thing, right?

But if Lio wakes up, he’ll have a hell of a time trying to explain what’s going on. Not that he particularly minds sharing a bed with Lio, the exact opposite, actually, but the last thing he wants to do is push Lio’s boundaries. He’s been carefully toeing the line over the past few weeks, helpless against Lio’s gravity, and so far Lio’s been surprisingly receptive, but Galo would hate to ruin the casual comfort he’s built between them.

Galo sneaks another glance at Lio’s serene profile. It’s so much nicer to let his thoughts linger on Lio’s slightly parted lips, the pale crescents of his eyelashes, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, than to contemplate the day ahead. Heedless of his will, Galo’s half-asleep brain wanders into a scenario where he’s _supposed_ to be in Lio’s bed. Maybe Lio would roll over, leg slung across Galo’s hips, nuzzling under Galo’s jaw, and Galo would run his fingers through lurid green hair, nails dragging lightly over Lio’s scalp, and Lio would purr, fingers curling into Galo’s shirt while Galo’s other hand—

Lio’s eyes flutter open and he sits up mechanically, startling Galo so hard he nearly levitates off the bed.

“Uh—look, I can—I can explain—” Galo starts, scrambling upright.

Lio turns his head to look at him, killing Galo’s words in his mouth, and blinks slowly.

Galo blinks back. “Lio?”

“Morning,” Lio murmurs, raising a hand to rub at his face.

“Uh...morning?”

Lio hums before clumsily swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing, wobbling over to the door of the ensuite 

Galo stares after him, bemused. Lio doesn’t do _clumsy._

When Lio meanders back into the room, his shirt is untucked but he’s visibly struggling with the buttons, frowning blearily.

“Um—here—” Awkwardly, Galo rolls off the bed and crosses to Lio, who doesn’t protest when he takes over the task. Galo glances between Lio’s hazy expression and his fingers, carefully working the buttons open. “Not really a morning person, huh?” he asks softly, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.

Lio hums again, clearly not listening, and Galo’s chest warms with affection.

The door swings open with a loud clatter. “Lio, I’m so sorry, I forgot to set my alarm last night, did you—” Thyma’s rushed words fizzle abruptly as she enters the room and freezes, eyes wide, taking in the scene.

“Uh—” Galo quickly releases Lio’s half-open shirt. “I can explain.”

Thyma smirks. “Yeah, I bet you can.”

Fortunately, Thyma is understanding, and once Galo is assured he’s not going to be barbecued alive, she briefly explains that it takes Lio a little while to wake up properly, but he still tries to start his routine as normal, so she usually checks in to make sure he doesn’t trip or anything.

Galo excuses himself quickly after that, unable to handle the sight of Lio squinting grumpily out the window.

When Lio meets him at breakfast half an hour later, he’s back to his typical whip-sharp self, perfectly groomed and apologizing for his behaviour that morning.

“No, nothing to apologize for,” Galo says quickly, hiding his blush behind his coffee mug. “I’m—uh...I’m sorry, though. For sleeping over without permission.”

Lio looks up at him through his eyelashes, scraping his fork against his plate lightly. “No need. We were both—” he sighs. “Exhausted.”

Galo sighs in solidarity.

A beat of quiet passes, punctuated by Thyma closing a door somewhere in the suite.

“I feel better now, though,” Galo admits. “It’s been hard to get good sleep on the road like this. Even on call at the station, we had designated sleeping hours.”

“Honestly, I’ve been struggling too.” Lio reaches for his coffee and curls both hands around the mug. “I’m accustomed to stress, but this is...a different kind of stress.”

“Right?” Galo leans back in his chair. “I think last night was the first decent sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”

Lio purses his lips thoughtfully. “I also slept better than usual.”

Galo holds his gaze across the table.

“Do you think—” Galo starts at the same time Lio says, “It’s possible that—”

Galo snaps his mouth shut and Lio quickly takes a sip from his mug, eyes darting away.

“Go—go ahead,” Galo mumbles.

Lio swallows, staring fixedly at the table. “I was only saying—” he sets the mug down, running his fingers over the handle, “—that...that it’s possible we benefited from...sleeping together.”

“Yeah!” Galo agrees, a little too eagerly. “I was gonna say that too!”

“Yes, well—” Lio clears his throat. “In that case, it might not be a bad idea to—to do it again.”

Galo stares at him.

Lio twists a strand of hair around his finger, still not looking up. “From time to time.”

When Galo still doesn’t respond, he finally glances up, brows furrowed. “If you don’t want to—”

“No, hang on—” Galo scrubs a hand over his face. His fingers are freezing against the flushed skin of his cheeks. “I need a second.”

Lio huffs and the sound goes straight to Galo’s heart. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he grumbles.

Galo can’t look at him. His whole body feels like it’s about to burst into flame. “I think it’s a good idea,” he squeaks, hand still over his eyes.

“You don’t have to force yourself—”

“I’m serious!” Galo lays his hands flat on the table, all of his excitement bubbling to the surface in a wide grin aimed right at Lio. “I’d love that! I mean, I’m cool if you’re cool—” the thought of waking up beside Lio again is nearly enough to make him dizzy. “That would be...really cool.”

Lio is nodding jerkily, lips curling up in a small smile that he tries to hide behind his mug, but Galo sees it and it makes his stomach swoop. “Okay, well—” Lio says. “That’s...settled, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Galo beams dopily.

“Yeah.”

“You guys ready?” Thyma asks abruptly, appearing in the doorway.

Galo jumps, one knee hitting the table from underneath and making the plates rattle loudly. Lio suddenly becomes very focused on draining his mug.

2\. Lio forgets he’s short.

All things considered, Lio isn't _that_ short. He's a head shorter than Galo, but Galo is the first to admit he's a pretty tall guy, even without the hair, so that doesn't mean much. Lio's taller than Thyma, at least, but Thyma is indisputably tiny, so that comparison doesn't mean much either. As far as Galo can tell, Lio doesn't have a complex about his size, but he doesn't move through the world like a short person. He moves like he's used to taking up space.

He charges through crowds, expecting people to part before him. He spreads out when he sits, legs wide, when he has the room. In company or confined spaces, he folds up a little more, legs crossed, hands folded, but always projecting the same intensity, like his own personal atmosphere. And he forgets he's short.

Galo is sitting at the table in the ensuite kitchen, watching Lio putter with something on the stove. Usually, Galo does the cooking when they’re left to their own devices, but Lio, never one to be outdone, insisted he could handle it that evening.

“Sure you don’t need help, your highness?” Galo grins, leaning his chin on one hand, eyes fixed on Lio’s back.

Lio shoots him a look over his shoulder. “I’m an elected official. There’s only one royal in this kitchen, Prince Galo.”

“I’m adopted!”

“And I lived on my own for a long time,” Lio says smoothly, turning the burner on. “I’ve got this.”

Galo considers the circle of blue flame now glowing on the stovetop. “You don’t use your powers to cook?”

Lio shrugs, narrow shoulders bunching under the loose t-shirt he’s wearing. “Burnish flame has a taste.”

That makes Galo sit up. “What—really?”

Another glance over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You never took a direct hit on the border?”

“I mostly did search and rescue, and getting out of the mech was a big no.”

“Hm.” Lio reaches for a grocery bag of produce and pulls out a bundle of carrots, carrying them to the sink. “Well, Burnish flame has a distinct aftertaste that can be transferred to food during cooking.”

“Whoa.” Galo remembers hearing somewhere that lightning strike victims sometimes taste ozone after they’re hit. He wonders if it’s like that. “What does it taste like?”

“It’s a little like woodsmoke, but cleaner, if that makes any sense.” Lio doesn’t look up from washing the carrots. “I can’t explain it very well. I’ve tasted it my whole life, so I don’t really think about it.”

“So the Burnish can taste their own flame?”

“It’s not a constant thing, but most Burnish actually like it and prefer food cooked with Burnish flame.” 

“I didn’t know any of that. That’s really cool.”

Lio huffs out a laugh, patting the carrots dry. “Maybe I’ll cook with my flames next time.”

“Yeah! I’d like to try it!” And it occurs to Galo that he still hasn’t seen Lio’s burnish flame. For some reason, the thought sparks a restless shiver up his spine.

“Alright. But this time, the burner will do fine.” Lio fills a pot with water and takes it back to the stove before returning to the carrots and extracting a knife from the block on the counter. Eyes on the blade, he opens the cabinet above his head and reaches for the cutting boards stored inside. And reaches.

The shelf is a good few inches over Lio’s outstretched hand and after a second, he finally looks up, eyebrows raised in apparent surprise.

“Uh, need help?” Galo asks.

Lio frowns up at the cutting boards. “I guess,” he admits, sounding baffled.

Chuckling, Galo rises and crosses to the counter, stepping up right behind Lio to reach for the cutting boards. “Higher up than you expected?”

Lio tilts his head back to scowl at Galo. “I don’t remember them being that far up there.”

“They’ve been here the whole time.” Galo smiles at Lio’s grumpy, upside-down expression and sets one of the thick wood boards on the counter in front of him. 

When Lio looks down at it, Galo is struck by the sudden urge to rest his chin in Lio’s hair. He swallows it and steps back, but he can’t bring himself to go back to the table, lingering in Lio’s gravity like a huge, awkward moon.

Lio just keeps working, apparently heedless of Galo’s presence, and he cooks like he does everything else: with burning intensity. Focused and vivid and filling the space far beyond the limits of his frame.

“Seriously, I can’t just sit around,” Galo entreats, needing somewhere to put all this nervous energy. “Give me a job? Please?”

“Fine,” Lio relents, gesturing to the rest of the produce. “Wash and peel those.”

Galo salutes. “You got it, boss!”

Lio laughs, short and bright, and shakes his bangs out of his eyes.

It’s no wonder Lio forgets he’s short. Even just standing beside him while he chops carrots, Galo feels dwarfed.

3\. Lio is affectionate, but you have to pay attention.

Galo is used to the overly-cuddly affection of his team. From Ignis’s firm claps on the shoulder, to Lucia’s clingy noodle arms, to Remi’s excited victory hugs, Galo has come to expect a certain level of contact from the people he cares about. Obviously, Lio is different, and Galo tries to hold back, but every time he tests the barriers between them and Lio doesn’t protest, he grows bolder. And it takes him a little while, but eventually he realizes Lio is testing the barriers in his own way as well.

Lio’s affection is covert. It’s little things. It’s scooting over to make room for him on the sofa. It’s brewing Galo’s coffee weaker than his own because he remembers Galo doesn’t like it strong. It’s cutting the amount of spices he cooks with to save Galo’s weak baby tongue. It’s fixing Galo’s tie for him when he _just can’t get the dang knot right_—

It’s gentle fingers brushing his hair back into place. It’s warm hands tucking the duvet around Galo’s half-asleep body after a long day. It’s renting a movie on his tablet that he thinks Galo will like to watch on the train. It’s buying dumb little trinkets that steal Galo’s attention when they pass a shop (which Galo tuckes covetously into his luggage and feels warm just thinking about). It’s summarizing the dry government business documents his lieutenants send him in a way Galo can understand. It’s taking the time to teach him terms he’s not familiar with.

And it’s focus. It’s interest in everything Galo says, pure, honest attention that makes Galo feel like the most fascinating person alive. Even when he’s busy or tired, when Galo speaks, Lio listens.

“We have one more stop,” Lio tells the driver through the divider. “I sent the address to the GPS.”

Galo frowns, racking his brain. “What else do we have to do today?”

Lio unbuttons his suit jacket, shrugging it onto the seat beside him. “It’s nothing official, but I arranged a tour at the museum you mentioned.”

It takes a second for Galo to remember, but when he does, he perks up instantly. “The vintage motorcycle museum?” he asks excitedly, leaning forward.

Lio nods, running a hand through his hair. “Though, if you’re tired, of course—”

“No, no! Not tired!” Galo is nearly bouncing in his seat, the exhaustion of the day evaporating. “This is so cool! Thank you!”

“You seemed really interested,” Lio smiles. “I like bikes too, although the ones I’m used to are a little different.”

“Lio—!” Galo wants to lunge across the car and crush Lio against him, but he holds back, channeling all his glee into the wide grin on his face. “You need to stop spoiling me. I’ll get too used to it.”

“Well, that’s—” Lio glances away, his cheeks darkening undeniably. “What’s wrong with that?” he mumbles.

“Nothing,” Galo sings. He knocks one foot against Lio’s. “If you want, you can keep spoiling me forever. I definitely won’t complain.”

A begrudging smile curls Lio’s mouth and he taps Galo’s foot back. “We’ll see.”

Galo laughs, returning the touch. “I guess that’s kind of what marriage is, right? Two people spoiling each other forever?”

Lio’s response this time is a lot closer to a kick, and Galo can’t take that lying down.

Their impromptu foot battle ends in a draw when the limo pulls up to the museum and Galo nearly trips over their tangled legs in his haste to get out. 

4\. Lio is good with kids.

Galo and Lio don’t have a lot of direct contact with the public, just as a general rule. It’s dangerous for any public figure, but especially as they move closer to the border, where anti-Burnish sentiment is still high, it’s risky for Lio in particular.

Nevertheless, at lot of their appearances involve crowds, and crowds always mean children.

Kids love Galo. He’s bright and tall and strong, which reads in their little brains as _jungle gym_, and Galo is so here for it. It makes rescues involving kids easier, plus kids are just cool. They’re tiny humans with endless curiosity and the wildest opinions. What’s not to like?

Perhaps unfairly, Galo kind of assumed Lio wouldn’t be down with kids. Lio is patient and respectful when he needs to be, but he doesn’t tolerate monkey-business when he’s in work-mode, and what are kids if not 100% concentrated monkey-business? So the first time a child wanders out of the crowd at an event and bumbles right into Lio’s leg, Galo is fully prepared to swoop in and take over.

He’s not prepared for Lio to crouch down, smiling easily, and ask the little girl, who can’t be more than three, if she’s alright. She nods, eyes wide and shining, which is the appropriate response in the face of Lio’s beauty, in Galo’s opinion. 

“Are you lost?” Lio continues.

The little girl shrugs, tugging at her shirt.

“I’m Lio. What’s your name?”

“Kara,” she mumbles.

“Do you know where your mom is, Kara?”

She shakes her head, face scrunching up.

“That’s okay. Let’s go find her, alright?” Lio offers his hand and Kara seizes his fingers, instantly fascinated by the soft leather of his gloves.

They locate Kara’s parents quickly thanks to Galo’s loud voice and when the couple runs up, they shoot Lio identical looks of suspicion but Lio is too busy waving at Kara to notice.

A while later, on a tour of a children’s hospital, Galo watches with poorly disguised glee as Lio is quickly surrounded by a throng of curious, awe-struck kids. He endures it all gamely, speaking calmly and smiling indulgently at their eagerness.

Galo tenses when a little boy asks to see his fire.

One of the other kids nudges him. “That’s rude!”

“It’s not! I heard they can all shoot fireballs!”

“I saw it on TV!” a girl pipes up.

“Me too!”

Then they’re all jostling, squabbling with each other and begging Lio to show them his “superpowers.” The staff shifts nervously around them.

“Lio—” Galo starts, but Lio holds up a hand, cutting him off.

“It’s fine.” He kneels down and the kids surge around him, excited. He extends one hand, and a thrill shoots through Galo in the instant right before a shimmering crystalline flame springs to life in his palm.

The adults rustle at the sight but the kids gasp, eyes gleaming.

“It’s purple!” one girl squeals.

“How do you do that?” several of them demand.

“Isn’t it hot?” someone asks.

“Not to me, because it’s mine, but it would be hot to you,” Lio explains evenly, keeping the flame carefully contained.

A chorus of disappointed _aww_s sounds and Lio smiles.

“Would you like to touch it?”

The awws morph into enthusiastic _yes_es and head nods and with a flicker of light, the little flame fades from sunset purple to a pale, opalescent green similar to Lio’s hair. Lio holds it out. “Who’s brave enough to try?”

The kids hesitate at the prospect of actually touching fire, but one little girl steps forward, boldly reaching for the flame and brushing her fingers against its prismatic edge. Her eyes widen. “It’s cool!” she exclaims.

Then all of the kids want to try and Galo covertly slips his phone out of his pocket to snatch a few shots of Lio cupping his hands under one little boy’s to keep the flame balanced between his small palms as he stares on, stupefied.

It’s the first time Galo has actually seen Lio’s Burnish flame, he realizes, but he can hardly focus on that, unable to keep his gaze from straying to Lio’s soft expression.

That night, lying in bed, Galo still can’t shake the image.

When Lio flicks the bathroom light off and joins him, tucking himself under several layers of blankets, Galo rolls to face him. “Do you want kids someday, Lio?”

Lio pauses, still sitting up. “What brought this on?”

Galo folds one arm under his head. “You just seem really natural around them. Today, you know—they really liked you.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m particularly natural with them.” Lio lies down on his back, frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling. The bedside lamp casts his face in a gentle yellow glow. “I dealt with children from time to time on the border. I was a little worried that the children here in Parnassus might dislike me, but I’m relieved to see that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“Why would they dislike you?”

Lio shrugs. “Primed by their parents, or perhaps they could have absorbed negative opinions from the media. It was only a minor concern.”

“Nah, man. You’re amazing, and kids are crazy smart. No way they wouldn’t love you.”

Even in the dim light, Galo can see Lio’s cheeks darken. “Galo, you….” he trails off, covering his eyes with one hand.

“What? It’s true!” Galo shuffles closer, until he’s only a few inches away, practically speaking into Lio’s ear. “You’re amazing, Lio.”

Lio drops his hand, turning his head to meet Galo’s gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you’ve said.”

“And I’ll keep saying it.”

“There’s no reason to.”

“The reason is it’s true and I want you to know it.”

Lio opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, stops, and closes it again, swallowing. Galo’s eyes are drawn to the flickering motion of Lio’s slender throat. “What about you?” Lio whispers.

“Me?” Galo repeats stupidly.

“Do you want children?”

Galo blinks. He’s never given it any serious thought, figuring he’ll cross that bridge when he’s older, and he never planned to stress about it either way. Now, however, lying in bed beside the man he’s promised to spend the rest of his life with, it feels a little more important. Like maybe he should choose his words wisely. “I want—” he starts slowly, “—to make those kinds of decisions with my husband.”

Lio sucks in a breath.

“But I’m not really worried about it,” Galo continues. “Kids are great, but we’re both barely adults ourselves, you know?”

“Yes, that’s true,” Lio agrees, releasing a long sigh. “To be honest, I never imagined having children. I never thought my life would...have room.”

“Even though you’re so good with them?”

“You saw me on a good day.”

Galo laughs. “I thought those nurses were going to have a stroke when you showed the kids your fire.”

Lio shakes his head. “I should have asked first. I know the sight of Burnish flame can be...upsetting to some. Especially this close to the border.”

“I hadn’t seen it yet. I was just as excited as the kids.”

“Really?” Lio quirks an eyebrow, shifting onto his side to mirror Galo. “It doesn’t bring up bad memories?”

Galo shrugs one shoulder. “Nah. I mean, sure, if someone was shooting it at me, that’d be one thing, but—” his hand inches toward where Lio’s is laying on the bed between them. “Your flames—” voice hushed, he brushes one finger against the pale skin of Lio’s wrist. “They’re really beautiful.”

Lio tracks the movement of Galo’s hand. “Do you want to see it again?” he asks hoarsely, flicking his gaze back up to meet Galo’s.

Galo’s eyes widen. “Yes,” he responds eagerly.

Instantly, a flickering violet light illuminates the space between them, shedding a gentle warmth. Galo stares at the small, gem-like flame twisting in Lio’s palm and feels his jaw drop. This close, it’s even more beautiful. Galo can make out the almost faceted edges of the flame, constantly shifting and glinting with internal light. The color rolls from deep indigo to pale lavender, flashing green and blue with each undulation.

“Awesome,” Galo breathes.

Lio smiles, his flame throwing kaleidoscopic shadows across his features. The sight is, again, even more captivating than the living fire dancing between them. “You’re so easily impressed, Galo Thymos.”

“You’re impressive, Lio Fotia.” Galo hovers one hand just outside the halo of heat emanating from the fire. “Can I touch it?”

“One second—” Like earlier, the fire ripples and turns light green, the radiant heat cooling noticeably. “Go ahead.”

Fearless, Galo skims his fingers through the tiny blaze. It flutters ticklishly against his skin, cool and ever-so-slightly denser than the surrounding air. “That is incredible,” Galo marvels, tracing the crystalline tip. “What does it feel like when you use it?”

“It feels….” Lio trials off thoughtfully. The shifting light makes the furrow between his brows look even deeper than usual. “Imagine that your bones are made of heat. You can always feel this current just beneath your skin, warming you from the inside, and with a thought, you can make the heat rise to the surface. It’s almost like an overflowing.”

Galo considers that, cupping his hands around the flame and watching the light bounce around inside the cave of his fingers. “And this heat—it comes from the Core?”

“The Burnish are genetically predisposed to resonate with the Core. It’s thought that Burnish flame originated in the Core, but now our resonance only gives us the power to generate it ourselves.”

“So the Core is the electrical socket and your resonance is the power cord and you’re the portable stove?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Galo snorts. “That’s pretty cool.”

“You’ll get sick of the whole thing after living there for a while.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, Lio,” Galo says honestly, pulling his eyes away from the fire and meeting Lio’s prismatic gaze. In the wash of his Burnish flame, Lio _glows_, and Galo can almost see the rivers of light flowing beneath his skin.

Lio’s lips part, his eyebrows twitching down, and it’s all Galo can do to keep from closing the distance between them and tasting that light himself.

Then Lio’s fingers curl closed, snuffing the fire in an instant. The watery light of the bedside lamp recaptures the room and Lio sits up, reaching for the switch. “It’s late,” he says in a measured voice. “We should go to sleep.”

“Uh—right, yeah.” A little dazed by the abrupt return to reality, Galo shifts back over to his side of the bed as the room is plunged into darkness. Beside him, Lio settles back under the blankets.

“Good night, Galo,” Lio whispers.

Galo presses his face into his pillow. “‘Night, Lio.” 

He wishes he could reach out and pull Lio closer, press his lips against the back of Lio’s neck, and curl into him in a way that makes it clear, without words, that he wants more than partners, more than friends. Suddenly, he wants it so painfully he can hardly think. But they have time. So Galo shoves the ache down as far as it will go and contents himself with the awareness of Lio’s warm weight on the other side of the bed.

5\. Lio keeps people at a distance.

After weeks of traveling together, sleeping in the same bed, and essentially _living_ together, Galo thinks he’s gotten pretty decent at reading Lio—at least decent enough to tell when something is wrong. And something is wrong.

Lio starts sleeping in a separate room again, and when Galo nervously asks if he did something wrong, he just brushes it off, claiming to be feeling under the weather.

“I wouldn’t want you to get sick, Galo,” he says dismissively and refuses to discuss the matter further.

Galo wouldn’t be too upset, since he knows Lio needs his own space, but the whole thing is symptomatic of a larger problem: Lio is pulling away.

Before, he and Galo would hang out fairly frequently, either going out to eat or cooking in their suite or hitting up tourist attractions in disguise, or even just chilling together between events, texting or chatting mindlessly. But now Lio is constantly busy. If they’re not at some official function, then Lio is doing paperwork or taking phone calls or simply nowhere to be found.

When Galo returns to a Lio-less suite for the third time since they arrived in the border city of Deus, he frowns, wracking his brain to remember if Lio told him about some plans that he forgot.

“Where’s Lio?” he asks Thyma, who’s sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table.

She looks up at him. “He’s not with you?”

Galo shakes his head and she slides her phone out of her pocket.

“Oh, he texted a few minutes ago. He’s out for a walk.”

Pinching his eyebrows together, Galo lowers himself into an armchair. “Does he seem...off to you lately?”

Thyma tilts her head. “How do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s just me, but—” Galo drums his fingers on the chair arm. “Does he seem more distant these days?”

“Well, I haven’t been around him as much as you have recently, but—” she sits up, swinging her legs to the ground, “—I think I have noticed something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She taps her chin in thought. “He’s been very serious the past few days. I mean, he’s always serious, but since he started spending time with you, it’s like—I don’t know—like he’s relaxed a little? He’s seemed...happier.”

Galo’s stomach flips at the words. “You think so?”

“Don’t act surprised, Galo. Lio can be a little hard to get a read on, but it’s obvious he likes being around you.” She smiles impishly. “Same goes for you.”

“Yeah,” Galo chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve never been the type to hide my feelings.”

“I can tell.” Her expression sobers. “But yeah, now that you mention it, Lio has been acting a little strangely. I thought he was just tired, but if you’re bringing it up….”

“I think he’s avoiding me,” Galo confesses. “But I’m not sure why.”

“Did something happen?”

Galo shrugs helplessly. “Not that I know of. Actually, I thought we were getting along really well.”

“Sharing a bed is a little more than _getting along really well_,” Thyma mutters.

“Yeah, well, we stopped doing that.”

“What, really?” She looks genuinely shocked. Given that she’s been sleeping in her own suite recently, Galo guesses she might not know.

“Yeah, he asked to go back to separate rooms.” Galo sighs, slumping in his chair. “And that’s cool, I respect his space, but I’m kind of sleeping like shit now.”

“Yikes.”

“So Lio hasn’t said anything to you?”

“No.” She presses her lips together. “Lio doesn’t really talk about his problems unless they affect his duty. Makes getting close to him an endurance sport.”

“So what do I do?”

She spreads her hands. “I don’t know.”

Galo groans. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Look, Galo—” Thyma sits forward. “Lio likes you. That’s obvious. But something must have happened and now he’s all tangled up in his own head and he won’t talk to you about it of his own accord.”

Galo twists his fingers together in his lap. “I don’t want to pry. I don’t want him to have to be _defensive_ around me.” He’s worked so hard to make sure Lio knows he’s safe around him. After the initial push to convince Lio to let him in, it’s been a game of balance: staying friendly and open without being overbearing. Letting things develop naturally. Now, he fears that forcing anything will just make Lio retreat and damage that progress irreparably. 

“Would you rather him continue to be unhappy?”

Heart sinking, Galo gnaws his lower lip.

Thyma sighs. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’d bet anything it has something to do with you, Galo. So you’re the only one that can do something about it.”

“No, you’re—you’re right,” Galo mumbles. “I hate this. I need to talk to him.”

“If it means anything, I’m rooting for you,” Thyma smiles.

“Thanks, Thyma.”

He doesn’t get a chance that evening. Lio returns and immediately shuts himself in his room to take a conference call, so Galo doesn’t even see him again until the next day, when they leave together for an event.

The local museum, in honor of the treaty, is unveiling a new wing devoted to the war, emphasizing education and peacemakers on both sides. As the westernmost major city in Parnassus, Deus is home to a lot of Panassan citizens who were displaced when the new border was finalized in the peace talks. Promare won that particular debate, claiming scientific proof that the land in question was affected by the Core, and therefore part of their ancestral home. Promare offered to grant citizenship to people who didn’t want to move, but as anti-Burnish sentiment is especially high on the border, virtually everyone decided to leave. Regardless, it wasn’t an easy transition, and the museum is hoping to ease tensions with its new addition.

Galo thinks it’s a noble endeavor, but he’s not sure of Lio’s feelings because every time he tries to ask on the ride over, Lio offers vague answers and refuses to meet his eyes.

The event itself is fine. Galo stands at a podium on the steps of the museum and gives a short, pre-prepared speech about the importance of educational outreach and Lio steps up and gives a variation of the same speech, except it sounds better in his mouth because he wrote both of them. Then they pose for some photos before heading inside to preview the displays.

Lio pulls a few feet ahead of him as they go and Galo lets him, staring at his rigid back, jaw clenched. He only looks away when Aina’s sharp elbow jabs him in the stomach.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, shifting her sunglasses to sit on her head. Both she and Varys are in full security garb, dark suits and mirrored lenses. “You look—” she grimaces, “—tense.”

“I’m just tired,” Galo replies half-heartedly.

“Yeah, you look tired too.”

“Thanks, you look nice today.”

“He also looks tired,” she continues, gesturing covertly at Lio as they all enter the main hall of the exhibit. “Did something happen?”

Galo flicks his gaze restlessly around the displays, trying to avoid Aina’s quizzical face. “What makes you say that?”

“You two are always whispering to each other at these things.” She sticks one fist on her hip. “But today he’s barely looked at you. Did you do something to make him mad?”

“Why do you automatically assume it’s my fault?” Galo asks incredulously, scowling down at her.

She quirks an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything!” Galo insists, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard by the crowd filling in the room around them. “At least, nothing that I know of.”

Aina hums. “When did this start?”

Galo shoves his hands in his pockets. “I dunno. Maybe a week ago?”

“What were you doing the last time he was acting normally?”

Casting his mind back, Galo is met with the impression of chromatic shadows and Lio’s porcelain face just inches away—he clears his throat. “Just chilling,” he forces out. “Talking before bed.”

“About what?”

“A few things. Kids. I asked about his Burnish flame and he explained a little. It all seemed totally normal to me. I thought we were getting on really well, but—” he furrows his brows. “Maybe not.”

“You should talk to him.”

“Yeah, I’m planning to, but—” Galo sighs, eyeing Lio where he’s speaking reservedly with the museum director across the hall. “It’s hard to catch him when he’s avoiding me.”

Aina pats him on the arm sympathetically. “I think you two can work it out. He seems to really like you.”

Galo recalls Thyma’s similar words and his heart thuds in his chest. “I really like him too.”

She smiles. “Then I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Galo sets his jaw, eyes fixed on Lio. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, you’re going now?”

“He can’t get away from me here.” 

Ignoring Aina’s uncertain whine, Galo makes his way across the hall. The director sees him charging over and seems to wrap up his conversation quickly, scooting away just as Galo reaches Lio’s side.

“Lio,” he says lowly, head dipped slightly to keep the sound between them. “Can we talk?”

Lio crosses his arms, studiously avoiding his gaze. “Right now isn’t really—”

“Not now. Later, in private. I just want to make sure you don’t run off.”

“Why would I run off?” Lio bites out.

“That’s what I want to talk about,” Galo says plaintively. “Lio. Please.”

Lio presses his lips together in a tense, bloodless line, glancing fitfully at Galo. “Galo—” he says tightly, “—there really isn’t anything—”

A flicker of movement to their left draws Galo’s attention in time to see a man break loose from the crowd and stagger toward them. Sirens blare in Galo’s head as the man reaches into his jacket and Galo lunges without thinking, one arm grabbing Lio and pulling him close, the other braced defensively. The man’s trajectory doesn’t waver and, with a garbled shout, he swings wildly. Galo winces as a bright pain slashes into his arm.

“Galo—!” Lio is yelling, struggling against him, but Galo doesn’t relax his grip, wrenching his injured arm to the side and rearing back just enough to kick the assailant away.

The crowd erupts in screams and chaos, barring the security members Galo can see struggling against the tide from reaching them, and the man stumbles, reaching back into his jacket. Galo spies a glint of dull metal and barely has time to shout “_Gun_!” over the din before a concussive _bang_ cuts through the noise—

—and everything vanishes in the roar of flames. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first ever cliffhanger! let me know what you think <3
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

Lio is pacing.

Thyma is sitting on the floor in front of the door, knees drawn up to her chest, watching him, and Lio can feel her eyes like little cigarette burns on his skin as he stalks the length of the living room, onto the tile of the open-concept kitchen, spins stiffly when his path terminates at the island, and goes back the way he came. Each thud of his shoes against the floor reverberates through his body, jarring his sore muscles and collecting in his head, the ache behind his eyes compounded by the goddamn doppler effect and Lio is going to _claw his skin off_—

“Water,” Thyma says tiredly.

Mindlessly, Lio grabs the glass of water off the coffee table and takes a perfunctory sip. He barely feels the water on his tongue, but at the very least it’s not evaporating the second it touches him anymore.

“Do you want to talk yet?” Thyma asks again.

“No.” Lio returns the glass to the coffee table and resumes his pacing. He strides right up the window, obscured by tightly-closed curtains, spins, starts over, and Thyma watches.

She took his phone as soon as the news bulletins started pouring in. Lio let her, unable to bear the sight of himself, even distorted and grainy on the museum's security cameras. Even the memory makes his stomach curdle and he clenches his fists, nails biting into the skin of his palms. But now he has nothing to distract himself from the swirling, buzzing anxiety consuming him from the inside out, like a fire kindled in his chest, catching the frayed edges of his nerves, until it pours out of his mouth in a single, destructive flash—

Thyma’s phone buzzes noisily against the hardwood beside her hip and she snatches it up as Lio whips around to stare at her.

“Is it—”

“Aina’s coming over,” she cuts him off, scanning the message.

_Aina_. If it’s just Aina, and she’s texting first, it’s probably okay. Unless it’s terrible news and she’s the only one—

“She says everything’s fine,” Thyma sighs, slumping with relief. “She’ll be here in a minute with more info.”

_Fine fine fine_—the word bounces around in Lio’s head, banging into his skull until it’s a pile of meaningless, sibilant mush.

“Drink more water,” Thyma directs, pushing herself stiffly to her feet.

Lio can hear her spine pop from where he is. She’s been curled up there for a while, since the first time he tried to leave. Now she stands on her tiptoes to peer out the peephole, one hand tapping against the door handle. Lio stares blankly at the glass on the coffee table, not seeing it.

An eternal second later, quick footsteps approach the door, followed by a series of sharp knocks. Thyma is already unlocking the door and throwing it open, admitting a harried-looking Aina.

Hair mussed and suit jacket missing, she clasps hands with Thyma, muttering something to her before her gaze lands on Lio.

“Lio—” she hurries to him and Lio meets her, heart racing. “Can I hug you?” she asks, arms out.

“That’s not a good idea,” Lio admits regretfully.

“That’s okay,” she says, settling for scanning him up and down critically. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier.” One hand fusses restlessly with the hem of her shirt, untucked from her uniform pants. “We’ve been on complete lock-down. I was only just able to get away. Varys is still downstairs.”

“Galo—?” Lio rasps.

Aina flashes him a strained smile. “He’s okay. One clean stab wound in his arm. The doctor stitched him up and prescribed him some painkillers.” She laughs humorlessly. “That lucky bastard. Even the doctor was surprised.”

“He’s...okay….”

“He’s okay Lio. He keeps asking about you.”

“See, Lio?” Thyma appears at his elbow. “Everything’s fine!”

Lio nods numbly.

“Why weren’t we contacted about any of this?” Thyma asks Aina. “We’ve just been sitting here in the dark. Lio’s been—”

“I know.” Aina shakes her head. “The head of security thought as long as you were secure, that was enough.” She glances at Lio. “I don’t think the others think you actually care about each other.”

“What? We’ve been going crazy! After what happened—how can they think that?”

Aina says something in response but Lio isn’t listening anymore, disengaging from the huddle and heading for the door.

“Wait—Lio—!”

Lio grabs the handle but pauses at Thyma’s hand on his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to see Galo.”

“I don’t—” Thyma looks over her shoulder at Aina, who’s chewing her lip.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea yet, Lio,” she says reluctantly.

“Room 408, right?” Lio twists the handle.

The women protest weakly but Lio is already out the door.

The hall is lined with a few security personnel who all rustle anxiously as he strides past. Distantly, he hears Thyma and Aina talking to them, but no one stops him so he doesn’t pay attention.

The stairs are faster than the elevator and Lio’s footsteps ring hallowly in the empty stairwell, pounding into his head with the same vigor as his pacing. _Thud, thud, thud, thud_—until it’s indistinguishable from the drumming of his heart.

Aina catches up to him in the fourth floor hallway, waving off a few more security team members. “Lio, I know you want to see him, but the doctor might still be there.”

“That’s fine.” Lio catches sight of the door to 408 and beelines for it, ignoring the one suited guard who tries to speak up and is quickly hushed by Varys. He raises his hand, intending to knock as a courtesy, but before he can, the door flies open so quickly that Lio’s hair flutters from the displaced air and he finds himself staring at a bare, muscular chest.

Lio’s eyes track up to find Galo blinking down at him, mouth hanging open, one hand still on the door.

“Lio—!” He lurches forward, reaching out, but seems to catch himself and step back, bringing his arms down stiffly at his sides. “You’re here!”

Lio stares at him dumbly.

“I was just about to come see you! What are you—”

“Okay, let’s save this until we’re inside, behind a locked door,” Aina cuts in hastily, crowding Lio into the doorway from behind.

Lio barely has time to put his hands up to avoid face-planting into Galo’s bare chest, and thankfully Galo moves back quickly to let them in.

Once the door is closed and locked, Lio allows himself a second to breathe and finally turn his brain back on. Galo seems fine. He’s shirtless, but he’s standing up and in one piece, the only evidence of the day’s events being the clean gauze wound neatly around his right bicep.

“You must be Regent Fotia,” a voice he doesn’t recognize says, and Lio turns to find a tall woman in scrubs smiling at him.

He eyes her warily.

“It’s alright, Lio,” Aina says. “This is the doctor we called. She’s very discreet.”

“I see.” Lio nods to her. “Is he alright?”

Galo grumbles something under his breath but the woman keeps smiling. “More or less. I would have preferred he go to a hospital, but I understand the security concerns.” She gestures with the bag in her hand. “I didn’t need any special equipment this time.”

“Please explain thoroughly.”

She chuckles.”You don’t mince words. Here—” she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and passes it over. “I’ve written some instructions down. I was planning to have someone give it to you anyway, since you’re his husband.”

Lio accepts the paper solemnly and tucks it into his pocket.

“It was a clean stab wound that didn’t nick anything major,” she continues briskly. “The knife wasn’t very big and it hadn’t bled very much by the time I got here. Some local anaesthesia and a row of stitches were all he needed, and I’ve given him a prescription for some pain medicine.”

“It was nothing, Lio,” Galo pipes up. “I barely felt it.”

“Don’t lie,” Aina hisses. “You were whining like a baby the entire time.”

“Aina!”

“But he’s okay?” Lio demands.

The doctor smiles. “His arm is going to be perfectly fine.”

“The rest of him, though—” Aina mutters.

The doctor’s shrewd eyes scan Lio up and down. “I requested to be allowed to examine you as well, Regent, but I was told that wouldn’t be necessary.”

“What?” Galo inserts himself, grabbing Lio’s wrist. “Lio, are you okay? Did you get hit?”

Lio jerks at the contact and Galo pulls away instantly, brows knitting with worry. “I’m fine,” Lio assures him. He glances at the doctor. “No examination necessary.”

She purses her lips. “In the video—”

“I’m fine,” Lio repeats.

Thyma steps up beside him. “The video is misleading, doctor. None of the shots landed.”

“I see,” the doctor acquiesces while Galo mutters “shots?” under his breath and Aina shushes him. “Then I will take my leave.”

“I’ll have someone escort you home,” Aina says, moving to lead her out of the suite.

Thyma pats Lio carefully on the shoulder. “I’m going to go back upstairs and call Gueira and Meis. They’re probably frantic by now.”

Lio nods. “Good idea.” They checked in briefly right after leaving the museum, just to get ahead of the inevitable news bulletins, but Lio wasn’t in much of a state to talk at length.

Thyma trails the other women out of the suite and Lio locks and bolts the door behind them, taking a second to stare blankly at the smooth, industrial metal in front of him.

Behind him, Galo clears his throat.

Lio squeezes his eyes shut, opens them, turns around. “Have you called the king?”

“Wha—Kray?” Galo runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yeah, we talked a bit before the stitches went in. He says it’s all handled.”

At the reminder of the stitches, Lio starts. “You should...sit down, or something.”

“Dude, I’m totally good, there’s nothing—”

“No, go lie down.” Lio starts herding Galo in the direction of the bedroom. “You got stabbed today.”

“_Minorly_ stabbed,” Galo protests, complying reluctantly with Lio’s urging until he’s backing into the bedroom.

“Even minor stabbings are dangerous for regular humans.”

“Nah, this is nothing!” Galo pats the gauze on his arm and immediately winces.

Lio points as imperiously as he can manage with shaking hands. “Bed.”

“_Fine_.” Galo stomps over to the bed and collapses onto the mattress with a dramatic huff, disrupting the neatly made sheets. “Happy?”

“Lie down.”

“I should have known your bedside manner would be terrible,” Galo grumbles, kicking the sheets down so he can get under them.

Lio scowls. “I distinctly remember you _shoving _me—”

“Okay, alright, glass mechas, I get it.” Galo slumps back against the pile of decorative pillows, frowning at the ceiling.

Lio hovers awkwardly in the middle of the room. All of his stress and fury and worry seemed to drain at the sight of Galo, apparently not at death’s door, leaving him with nothing but a shivery pit in his stomach. “Do...do you need something?” he asks haltingly. “Water, or...a shirt? Something?”

Galo slides him an amused look. “Are you really going to nurse me, Regent Fotia?”

Lio’s heart stutters in his chest. “I….”

“It’s fine, I—” Galo shuffles upright a little, expression sobering. “The only thing I need is for you to come over here.” He pats the space beside him. “If—if that’s cool,” he finishes hesitantly.

Lio swallows. Part of him recoils at the thought of being near Galo after everything that happened, but another part, the largest part, can’t fight the gravity pulling him forward, the same tug he’s been so wary about leaning into. But now it’s impossible to ignore and Lio finds himself perched on the edge of the bed. His eyes catch on the gauze.

Galo follows his gaze and shrugs. “It’s really not that bad,” he says. “The numbness is wearing off a bit, but it’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

Right. Lio glances at the scar coiled around Galo’s other arm. _Right._

“Are you okay?” Galo asks softly. “Like, really—are you okay?”

“Yes,” Lio says, voice hard.

“Lio—” Again, Galo reaches for him, but, again, Lio twitches away instinctively. Galo’s lips press together in a thin line but he lowers his hand. “What happened?” he tries. “After the attack—it’s all fuzzy and no one will tell me. Thyma mentioned a video? Aina took my phone, so—”

“You didn’t see?”

“See what?”

“See what I—” Lio cuts himself off, turning away.

“What? Lio, what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter? Someone tried to assassinate you!”

“Just a disgruntled border refugee.”

“He almost stabbed you! He had a _gun_—”

“I’m not the one who got hurt!” Lio snaps.

The bed shifts as Galo pushes himself up further. “He was aiming for you! I’m glad you’re okay, but why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“You’ll see it eventually,” Lio says bitterly. “It’s all over the internet.”

“But I don’t want to hear it from the internet—” a slight, radiant warmth hovers over Lio’s shoulder and Lio glances over to see Galo reaching for him, hand extended but not touching. “I want to hear it from you.”

Lio grits his teeth. “I lost control,” he forces out.

Galo’s eyebrows pinch together. “What?”

“I have been...so careful—” Lio fists his hands in the duvet on either side of him, “—for so long. I _have_ to be—this isn’t a battlefield and I’m not—” he sucks in a sharp breath, pushing down memories of his time on the border, dragged forward by the heat still sparking under his skin. “But I saw you get hurt and I—I lost it—”

“Lio—”

“I could have killed you—I could have incinerated the whole building—”

“You didn’t—” Galo cuts in helplessly. “Everyone’s fine, I’m fine—”

“This time—”

“You—you’re not _dangerous_, Lio—”

“I’m not!” Lio bursts out, rounding on Galo so forcefully that Galo jerks back. “I have _perfect_ control of myself! I am one of the most powerful Burnish alive and I have practiced for years to master my abilities! I am _not_ ruled by my emotions—I can’t be! But still, I—I—” Lio tangles his fingers in his hair, unable to articulate the mess in his head.

“Lio—” Galo’s voice cracks and he sits forward again. “Can—Can I touch you?”

Lio curls his fingers tighter until he can feel the painful tugging in his scalp. “You shouldn’t,” he mutters.

“Why?”

“I’m...I’m hot,” Lio confesses tightly.

Galo is silent for a beat, blinking. “Uh—”

“It’s been hours and I’m still—” Lio moves his hands from his hair to cover his eyes, pressed flat against his face so he doesn’t have to look at Galo’s expression. “All that energy doesn’t just disappear and I—I can’t make it stop—”

“Is that it?” Galo asks. “Is that the only reason?”

Lio squeezes his eyes shut behind his hands until little stars drifts across his vision. “It’s better if you don’t touch me until I’ve cooled down—” Lio cuts off as firm fingers encircle his wrists and tug his hands away from his face. He blinks in surprise and finds himself staring straight into Galo’s determined eyes. “Galo—”

“You’re always hot, Lio,” he says earnestly, tightening his grip. “This is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Idiot—” Lio knows his surface temperature is still well above 100 degrees, not boiling anymore but way too high for Galo to just grab bare-handed. “You shouldn’t—”

“I’ll let go if you want me to, but if you’re just worried about the heat, I—” Galo slides his grip down to grasp Lio’s hands properly, brows furrowed, eyes wide and pleading. “I want to touch you,” he says softly.

Lio’s heart stutters in his chest.

“I’ve been going crazy since they separated us,” Galo admits, squeezing Lio’s hands. “I kept asking about you, but no one would tell me anything. I thought maybe you were hurt and they didn’t want to say—”

“Burnish can heal themselves,” Lio murmurs, staring at their joined hands.

“Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t thinking straight—” Galo chuckles lowly. “I was worried you were going to be sent away before I got to see you—I wouldn’t shut up about you—”

Lio looks up. “I would never leave you,” he insists.

Galo blinks. “Lio….” He ducks his head for a second and Lio can see him swallow hard. When he raises his head, his eyes are shining. “The past few days—” he starts, a little strangled, “—have been kind of weird. I—I feel like you’ve been avoiding me? That’s what I wanted to talk about, earlier, before—” his mouth twitches down into a troubled frown. “But I’m not insane, right? You were pulling away.”

Lio cuts his gaze to the side, shame rising in his throat.

“Why?” Galo asks.

“That’s—” Lio shakes his head. “Galo, now isn’t really—”

“I thought maybe I had pushed you too far, but you’re here now, so—” Galo shuffles closer. “Please, Lio, I just—you’re important to me, and if I did something, I want to know, because I can’t stand the thought of not having you around.”

The words pierce something deep inside him and Lio bites his lip, still avoiding Galo’s eyes. He knew he was being too obvious, but after their conversation in bed last week, being near Galo sent a flurry of unfamiliar panic through him, kindled by the strange, undeniable feelings gripping his heart. Before the wedding, he was prepared to be Galo’s coworker; after the wedding, he was prepared to be Galo’s friend; for the future, he was prepared to be Galo’s partner—but he wasn’t prepared to fall in love.

He thought he could keep it quiet. He just needed some time to get over the warm, swooping sensation in his chest that came every time Galo stood too close or laughed too loud or fixed him with sparkling blue eyes. He just needed some time.

But then he flew off the rails at the mere sight of Galo being injured and now time’s up. Galo is staring at him pleadingly and Lio has a choice. He can lie and try to return their relationship to how it was before, or—

“I—” Lio’s voice is brittle when he finally finds it. “I _have_ been pulling away. You’re right.” He darts a glance at Galo, finds himself unable to look away. “I was trying to...work something out.”

“Something?” Galo repeats. “What?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Lio slides his hands out of Galo’s grip and brushes his fingertips just beneath Galo’s collarbone. Galo’s stare doesn’t waver. “Galo Thymos,” Lio murmurs, flattening his hands against Galo’s chest, seeking the steady thrum of his heart to ground himself. “My feelings for you have surpassed all of my wildest expectations.” Lio Fotia doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t do things by halves. When he makes a decision, he goes all in. So, steeling himself, Lio jumps, feet first, and leans forward to press his lips against Galo’s.

As usual, Galo is warm, so warm that even Lio, with his super-heated skin, can feel the burn all the way in his bones as he holds the kiss for one long, suspended second. It’s not their first kiss, but as Galo said, so long ago now, _that was for them, this is for you_.

Lio parts his lips slightly against Galo’s slack mouth, pressing more firmly for a fleeting instant, before pulling back, inhaling raggedly, gaze flicking away. “I know this might be surprising,” he whispers hoarsely. “But I hope that we—”

He’s silenced by a large hand capturing his face, angling it back toward Galo as a warm, insistent mouth claims his again.

Lio lets out a muffled _mmph_ in surprise, and an arm winds around his waist, yanking him forward until he’s pressed against Galo’s chest, his bare skin searing through the layers of Lio’s clothes. Galo is enthusiastic, nearly bowing Lio backwards as he moves his lips hotly against Lio’s, and Lio’s brain fuzzes around the edges. His fingers twitch, curling nails into Galo’s skin, and Galo makes a quiet, needy sound deep in his throat, dragging a shredded gasp out of Lio’s mouth.

Galo surges forward, and an unpracticed tongue darts at the edge of Lio’s bottom lip, lighting a fire at the base of his spine. Lio melts into it, the fire and Galo both, pressing back, burying his hands in Galo’s wild hair, unable to suppress a moan.

With a jagged inhale, Galo jerks back. “Wait—wait a second—hang on—”

Lio freezes, blinking dazedly at Galo’s winded expression. “What?”

“Are—do you—does this mean you like me?” Galo asks breathlessly.

Lio stares at him, incredulity snapping everything back into focus. “Are you an idiot?”

“Yes!” Galo fits both hands over Lio’s hips. “I am an idiot! You have to tell me, Lio.” Intention simmers deep in his gaze. “I need to hear it.”

“I—” Galo is the only person to ever render Lio speechless. He cards his hands through Galo’s hair fitfully, eyes flicking between Galo’s heated stare and parted lips— “I...I like y—”

The rest of his words are muffled against Galo’s mouth as he surges forward again. Lio is prepared this time, though, and responds instantly, using his grip on Galo’s hair to drag him backwards, pinning him against the pillows. Galo hums excitedly, the sound vibrating through Lio’s teeth, and pulls Lio back with him, coaxing him completely onto the bed. Lio follows, swinging one leg over Galo’s thighs, straddling him without losing contact.

Bolder now, Galo licks into Lio’s mouth and Lio’s eyes slide closed, wrapping his arms around Galo’s neck as Galo’s hands encircle his waist, kneading his thumbs into Lio’s hip bones.

“Wow—” Galo murmurs, their lips still brushing, “—you really are hot.”

Lio frowns, jerking back, “I told you—” again, his words are lost inside Galo’s mouth, sinking into an involuntary moan as Galo’s grip on his hips tightens, fingers pressing against the small of his back. In response, Lio trails one hand down Galo’s neck, over his shoulder, gripping his uninjured bicep and digging his nails into the dense muscle.

Galo pulls back slightly, panting in a breath, and Lio follows, pulled as though by a magnet, nipping at his bottom lip. “_Fuck_,” Galo hisses, tugging the hem of Lio’s dress shirt out of his pants. “I want—off—”

Heart hammering, Lio can only nod, releasing his hold on Galo to fumble with his shirt buttons.

“Here, let me—” Galo reaches to help, but Lio can’t wait that long.

Gripping the edges of the closure, Lio rips his shirt open, popping the buttons off with the barest resistance and the sharp little clatters of plastic on hardwood. Blinking in surprise, Galo nevertheless wastes no time sliding his hands against Lio’s bare sides and Lio sucks in a shuddering gasp, cupping Galo’s jaw to guide their mouths back together.

They’ve been close before—hell, they’ve _kissed_ before—but none of that, none of the tentative touches or shared beds or linked arms, can compare to _this_. Lio can’t get enough of Galo’s skin under his hands, Galo’s zealous tongue in his mouth, Galo’s sighs and moans humming through him like an electrical current, and Galo pushes and pulls and grips like he wants to climb inside Lio and never leave. It’s addictive, every new slide of skin on skin and hitched breath and click of teeth sparks up Lio’s spine until he’s nearly panting into Galo’s open mouth.

“Lio—” Galo breathes, one hand buried in Lio’s hair, ducking his head to trail a row of white-hot kisses down Lio’s neck. “Lio, Lio, _Lio_—”

Lio bites his lip to keep the indecent whine pooling in his throat from escaping, ears ringing, hands flexing against Galo’s shoulders.

“Lio—_fuck_—” a graze of teeth on Lio’s collarbone, “—you have no idea—how long I’ve—how much—”

“Me too—” Lio gasps. “I’ve never—”

Galo lets out a throaty laugh, returning to Lio’s mouth with a hard, demanding kiss that steals the shallow breath from Lio’s lungs, both arms locked around Lio’s waist, pressing their chests together. “God, you’re so—_amazing_, Lio, I—”

Lio grabs his face and kisses him again, open-mouthed and messy, until they’re both gasping, the heat under Lio’s skin glowing brighter with each heartbeat thundering behind his ribs, each rapid echo from behind Galo’s.

Dizzy from the flood of _Galo_ across all of his senses, Lio leans back as much as he dares and reaches for Galo’s waistband, only to find his wrist caught in a trembling hand.

“Wait—” Galo rasps, pulling away just enough to talk. “Hang—hang on—”

Lio stills, chest heaving, blinking dazedly as Galo cups his jaw with his other hand and tilts him forward until their foreheads are touching.

“I...I am _so_ into this—” Galo pants, adjusting his grip on Lio’s wrist to tangle their fingers together. “Like—_fuck_—you’re so—” he breaks off on a huff, brushing his lips against Lio’s just enough for Lio to feel him smiling. “And I want to do..._so_ much more—but—” he sweeps his thumb in a searing arc over Lio’s cheekbone, swallowing hard, “—not right now. Today was...really stressful—and I want to be completely clear-headed when—when _more_ happens, you know?”

It takes a second for Lio’s brain to catch up with Galo’s words, the heated static blaring in his ears quieting into a low hum of warmth throughout his whole body, and, with a spike of panic, he straightens up. “Your arm—! Are you—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Galo insists quickly, gesturing with his injured arm without letting go of Lio. “That’s not what I mean—I’m totally cool, I promise.”

Lio sags slightly, gaze darting between the gauze and Galo’s flushed face. “You...you’re right,” he admits, wrapping tentative fingers around the hand on his cheek, pulling it down to rest between them. “After what happened….” he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. The flesh is sensitive and already slightly swollen. “I—I can leave, if you want to rest—”

“No!” Galo leans forward, eyes wide. “You don’t have to—I mean—you can if you want, but—” he furrows his brows. “I...I sleep better when you’re with me. And I want to be near you.” He glances away, uncharacteristically sheepish. “If...if that’s okay?”

Lio’s blood pounds through him like lava. “Of course.” Releasing Galo’s hand, he reaches up, grazing his fingertips across Galo’s cheek, because he can, because he can just _do that now_, and the way Galo leans into the touch brings a rush strong enough to make him sway. “I want to be near you as well.”

The expression that dawns on Galo’s face is suspiciously close to awe. “Lio, you—I—” then there are arms around Lio’s middle and he finds himself once again crushed against Galo’s bare chest, but this time Galo just lets out a jubilant laugh, rocking slightly.

Lio grunts, all the air squeezed out of him. “What—?”

“I don’t know what to do—” Galo gasps, burying his face in Lio’s shoulder, and Lio can hear the beaming in his words. “I’m—I’m so happy! Lio—! This is—I never thought—” he dissolves into a series of hiccuping giggles.

All Lio can do is run his hands up and down Galo’s broad back, letting himself be enfolded, leaning his head against Galo’s, speechless from his own bubbling happiness. Galo is so warm against him, solid and whole and nearly vibrating with emotion. It’s a different heat from the one still simmering in Lio’s veins, but it’s familiar by now, and a feeling of safety washes over Lio as he melts into it.

* * *

Galo should be sleeping.

It’s been a long day, and he did technically get stabbed, but he just _can’t_. He can’t bring himself to close his eyes against the sight of Lio dozing peacefully on his chest. He must have been incredibly exhausted, dropping off almost as soon as he tucked his head under Galo’s chin, one hand splayed over Galo’s ribs, their legs tangled under the duvet, and Galo can hardly believe this is happening. He can’t stop staring. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look _enough_.

How many times has he idly wondered how Lio would fit against him? For as much as they’ve shared a bed, they had never found themselves entwined like that first morning, despite the undeniable ache Galo felt to close that distance. And now, with his uninjured arm wrapped around Lio’s waist, keeping him perfectly pressed to Galo’s side, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

From this angle, Galo can just see the crescents of Lio’s eyelashes, the sweep of Lio’s neck before it disappears into the collar of his shirt, which is still clinging to his shoulders despite its rough treatment earlier. Every time Lio exhales, an errant strand of hair draped in front of his face flutters, drawing Galo’s eyes with the movement. Carefully, Galo reaches his free arm over, wincing slightly at the pull on his stitches, and brushes the strand behind Lio’s ear, keeping his touch as light as possible, but he can’t resist letting his fingertips linger on Lio’s jawline.

His lips are still tingling, and just the memory of Lio straddling him, kissing him like his life depended on it is enough to make Galo flush. He’s already on the verge of overheating, with Lio still radiating more heat than usual right against his bare skin, but moving isn’t an option. Nor is forgetting how not thirty minutes ago he was making out with _Lio Fotia_—

Galo covers his eyes with his free hand, smiling uncontrollably.

Distantly, he hears the suite door click open and light footsteps tap on the hardwood floor. Galo lowers his hand in time to see Aina poke her head through the open door.

“Galo, did—” she breaks off, blinking at the scene and Galo holds a finger to his lips in a _shush_ motion.

A glance at Lio reveals that he’s still asleep, seemingly unaffected by the noise, so Galo gestures for Aina to come in.

She creeps cautiously into the room, averting her eyes from the bed, and Galo can see the way her eyebrows pinch together.

“What’s up?” he whispers.

She darts a look at him, hovering just inside the door. “I...I just came to check on you guys,” she replies quietly. “I’m glad to see you seem to have worked out...whatever was wrong.”

Again, Galo can’t control his smile, tightening his grip on Lio ever-so-slightly. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Aina smiles back, but it looks a little forced.

“Is everything okay?” Galo asks, expression sobering.

“What?”

“You look a little—”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine—” Aina seems to gather herself, coming further into the room. “I’m relieved, but I don’t need the details right now—” she says quickly, raising her hand just as Galo opens his mouth excitedly.

He pouts. “We didn’t do anything weird, just talked.”

“That’s good.”

“And made out.”

“Galo—” Aina sighs, rubbing at her temple. “We can gossip about what you and your husband get up to later—”

A little thrill runs through Galo at the words. _Husband_. He’d been so caught up in the fact that Lio returned his feelings, he’d completely forgotten that they’re actually _married_. Talk about doing things out of order.

“—but I do actually have news,” Aina finishes.

Galo clears his throat softly, shaking off the giddy haze that settles over him every time he thinks about Lio. “About the attacker?”

Aina nods and, at Galo’s indication, sits carefully beside him on the bed. “We were right,” she whispers, glancing at Lio. “He was a Parnassan citizen displaced by the border shift. Apparently he owned a farm and resented having to abandon it.”

Galo frowns. “He didn’t _have_ to—”

“Of course, but he’s also incredibly racist.” Aina shakes her head. “He decided he’d rather try to take revenge than become a citizen of Promare.”

_Revenge_. It’s unthinkable to Galo that someone could see an action designed to spare thousands of lives as something to take revenge over. “And he really thought he’d get away with it?”

“Doesn’t look that way.” Aina hugs her arms around herself. “He confessed that the knife was supposed to be for Lio, and the gun was for himself.”

Galo grimaces. “Yikes.”

“Yeah. He folded pretty quickly once the police started questioning him.”

“No accomplices?”

“Claimed to be working alone and that appears to be true. Everything he’s said has checked out so far. There’s just—” she bites her bottom lip. “Just one sort of odd thing.”

Galo perks up. “What?”

“The knife, you know—” she gestures to Galo’s wrapped injury, “—the one you got stabbed with—it’s a special anti-Burnish tactical knife.”

“Those were common on the border,” Galo says. “Even for civilians. I know they were all recalled when the treaty was signed, but that doesn’t mean—”

“It’s not standard issue, though,” Aina cuts in. “It’s a really new model—you know, the ones with chain-freezing capabilities?”

Galo blinks. “But I thought only Freeze Force used those?” The Absolute Zero advanced tactical knives went into production right before the peace talks started and were only put to use in the last few weeks before the weapons recall, and, even then, only Freeze Force, the highest anti-Burnish unit in the Parnassan military, was cleared to carry them.

“That’s right.”

“So how did a civilian get one?”

Aina spreads her hands helplessly. “We don’t know. That’s the one thing he won’t cop to.”

Galo presses his lips together, glancing back down at Lio, still sleeping serenely against him. If that attack had landed where it was supposed to, the nanomachine-enhanced metal of the blade would have reacted to Lio’s distinctive, unnatural body temperature, triggering a freezing domino effect that rippled from the site of contact all across the surface of Lio’s skin, gradually sinking deeper, intensifying as Lio’s body instinctively tried to melt the ice, until he was completely immobilized. It’s not instantly fatal, according to what Galo’s read, but it’s agonizing, and if the knife isn’t removed quickly, the victim will inevitably freeze to death, their Burnish flame suffocated under a cold that only grows worse as the temperature rises.

It’s a grisly invention, one that Galo’s glad never saw wide distribution, but the thought of it coming so close to Lio makes rage ignite deep in his gut. Suddenly he wishes he’d done much worse than kick the would-be assassin.

To settle the furious restlessness kicking in his chest, Galo strokes his free hand through Lio’s hair, savoring the singe of Lio’s skin everywhere they’re pressed together.

Aina clears her throat and Galo cuts his eyes to her sheepishly. He almost forgot she was there. “Uh—anything else new?” he asks, resting his hand over Lio’s on his chest.

She purses her lips. “That’s about it. The king’s people are going to take over from the cops from here and he’ll be tried in royal court for attempted assassination and assaulting a prince.”

Galo knows a trial is the only just thing to do, but part of him wishes they could just skip right to locking the guy away forever. “Good,” he says begrudgingly.

“Other than that, we’ll take a few days to get things in order, and then the plan is to keep going as usual.”

“Awesome!” Galo brightens instantly. Their next stop is supposed to be Madoba, Promare’s only border city, finally outside of Parnassus, and Galo had been excited for it before Lio started avoiding him. Now he’s even _more_ excited at the prospect of seeing Lio’s home.

Aina quirks an eyebrow, smirking. “I take it that means you don’t want to call off the tour?”

“Of course not,” Galo responds incredulously. “I’m totally good! As long as Lio’s cool with it, we should keep going. Show everyone it takes more than an assassination attempt to get us down!”

“Shh!” Aina shushes him, gesturing at Lio.

Galo snaps his mouth shut instantly, but Lio doesn’t stir, still dead to the world, and Galo smiles down at him. He can’t help it; the sight of Lio so relaxed against him sends little flutters of fondness through him.

“Oh, right—” Aina digs in her pocket and pulls out Galo’s phone. “I guess I’ll give this back.”

Lio’s words from earlier flash through Galo’s head—_it’s all over the internet_. “Aina,” he starts soberly, accepting his phone from her and laying it on the duvet beside him. “What happened after I got stabbed?”

She regards him, expression guarded. “You really don’t remember?”

“I told you—”

“I thought maybe it was just the adrenaline.”

Galo shakes his head slightly. “After I saw the gun, there was this—this flash of heat, and everything after that is a blur until he we got here and the doctor was talking to me.”

Aina twists her fingers together, biting her lip. “I guess I can’t blame you. It was...confusing, for a while. Everyone was panicking and Lio—” she furrows her brows. “Do you want to see?”

“See?”

“The museum’s cameras got most of it—” she slides her own phone out and taps the screen a few times. “The footage has been all over the internet, but I guess you wouldn’t know that—”

“What happened?” Galo asks again, anxiety squeezing his throat.

“Just—look—” Aina turns her phone around and holds it out to him. “There’s no sound.”

He takes it, focusing intently on the black-and-white video already playing on the screen. The quality isn’t great, and it’s shot from a very high angle, but he can make out himself, with his distinctive spiky hair, standing beside Lio’s shorter figure, leaning down slightly as grainy, indistinct figures mill around them. Suddenly, one of the figures separates from the crowd and lunges for them and Galo watches, jaw tight, as his past self grabs Lio and takes the first attack in the arm before kicking the guy away. Vaguely, he can make out the guy fumbling with something, himself shouting, then the guy produces the unmistakable shape of a gun, aims it at them, and recoils sharply—even on the monochrome footage, Galo can make out the muzzle-flash of the gun going off—

Almost too quickly for Galo to follow, Lio’s figure, still shielded behind Galo’s body, seems to expand, a blast of shifting, flickering darkness that crashes across the entire screen, obscuring everything. Galo gapes as, just as quickly, the darkness recedes, sucked back into Lio, but he looks—_wrong_. His outline is shimmering unnaturally, almost glitching out at the edges, and he’s hunched over, head in his hands as arcs of burning darkness lash away from him. The crowd is gone from frame and the attacker is sprawled on the floor. Galo spies his own form, half-collapsed to the side, trying to drag itself upright just as Varys storms into view, followed by a dozen security team members. Aina’s distinctive shape darts into view, followed immediately by Thyma, who races to over to Lio and inserts herself between him and the security personnel advancing on him. She grabs him by the arms and the weaving tendrils of flame evaporate as he sags against her. Within seconds, the room is empty, the security team hauling the attacker away and Varys bundling Galo off screen while Thyma half-drags Lio after them.

“That—” Galo breathes. “What—?”

Aina plucks the phone from his hand and looks at it morosely. “Yeah, it was a mess.”

“The gun—”

“It went off, at least twice, but the blast incinerated the bullets before they hit.” Aina lowers the phone to her lap, fixing Galo with a pinched stare. “Frankly, I’m still a little confused on why we’re not all ash right now, but Thyma says Lio was probably able to control the flames enough to keep from hurting us.”

Recalling how easily Lio made his flames cool to the touch, Galo covers Lio’s hand with his own again. “He’s...incredibly powerful,” he whispers. Honestly, watching Lio lose control like that felt invasive, especially since Lio seemed so ashamed of it earlier, but Galo can’t stop the awe unfolding in him. So far, he’s only had tiny glimpses of Lio’s abilities, and even the video probably wasn’t a great representation of his true potential, but still...all of that power, simmering away in such a small person—just the thought makes Galo’s heart pound with wonder. “But he would never hurt us.”

“We’re really lucky, on multiple fronts,” Aina sighs. “There was talk of containing Lio, at least for a while, but as soon as the King heard what happened he forbade anything like that. He made it very clear that you and Lio weren’t to be separated.”

Galo had only spoken briefly to Kray earlier, just a quick check-in confirming that he wasn’t dead or majorly traumatized, and Aina’s words make his chest warm for non-Lio-related reasons. “Good. Lio _isn’t _dangerous.”

“I know,” Aina says softly. “Plus, if he was taken somewhere, I’m willing to bet you’d do something stupid trying to get to him.”

Lips quirking up against his will, Galo drops his gaze to Lio’s sleeping face. “Absolutely.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do for the second ceremony?” Aina asks.

Glancing back up at her, Galo lifts an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

She scowls. “Honestly, Galo—”

“Cut me a break—I got stabbed today!” Galo reminds her, voice hushed.

“That’s no excuse.” She rolls her eyes. “Promare weddings involve exchanging rings, and I haven’t seen you sneaking away to go jewelry shopping.”

Galo’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, I totally forgot.” To be fair, it had only been mentioned to him once, in passing, by one of the wedding planners back at the beginning of this whole thing, and he’d never given it any more thought.

“Well, you’ve got until we reach Fennel to figure something out.”

“Shit.” Galo tilts his head back against the pillows, staring mournfully at the ceiling. “What am I gonna do?”

Aina shifts her weight slightly. “I’m sure he’ll like anything you give him.”

Galo curls his fingers slightly around Lio’s hand where it rests on his abdomen. “No—I can’t half-ass this. He’s so… I want to let him know I’m _serious_, you know?”

“You’re married, Galo. And he’s asleep on top of you. I think he gets it.”

“Yeah, but I just—” Lio is still warmer than usual, searing Galo’s skin just enough to be noticeable and Galo rolls his head to frown down at their joined hands. “I wanna do something meaningful, something—” he breaks off, staring at Lio’s pale, slim fingers enclosed in his own larger grip. At the edge of his mind, an idea flickers to life. “Hey, Aina—” he starts, a smile creeping inexorably across his face, “—can you call Lucia for me? I’m gonna need her help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guyssss :') i have no words for how touched i am by your sweet comments and all the kudos. this fic is such a joy to write and you guys are a big part of that. i hope you enjoyed this chapter--a lot of the stuff in it is a first for me, writing-wise and i'm so SO grateful you've stuck with me this far.
> 
> please tell me if you think i need to tag anything else. the violence isn't explicit but i want to be sure.
> 
> i wanted to get this out on the dvd release date but real life happens sometimes. one day late isn't bad :P i'm excited for the fandom to grow now that more people will have access to the film!! 
> 
> please let me know what you think! and come see me on [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few necessary conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! i know i said this chapter would be delayed, and honestly i wasn't planning to update this fic until i finished my big burn project, but i couldn't stop working on it, and before i knew it i had a chapter long enough to post. the events of this chapter were originally going to be condensed and combined with what will now be the events of the next chapter, but the wordcount kind of snuck up on me, and i want to make sure the upcoming events get the proper attention.
> 
> there's a lot going on in the world right now, and we're in the unique situation of pretty much everyone going through a version of the same thing, so when i say i hope this helps distract you even a little bit, you all know what i mean and that i'm serious. please enjoy!

“—and I’ll handle all of that when I get there,” Lio finishes quietly.

“Got it.” Meis makes a note before squinting at Lio through the holoscreen. “Why are you whispering?”

Lio adjusts the headset in his ear. “Because Galo is asleep.”

“Can’t you leave the cabin?”

“No.”

Meis looks suspicious but doesn’t press, instead setting his notes aside and waving offscreen. A second later Gueira joins him in front of the camera.

“We’ve got everything planned for the ceremony, boss,” Gueira says, shouldering Meis to the side. “Increased security and everything.”

Lio presses his lips together. “I’m not anticipating any attacks on Promare soil. My Burnish detractors aren’t nearly so crass.”

“Save it, boss, we’re not taking any chances.” Gueira checks his own notes. “I didn’t assign any extra protection for Prince Galo outside of the ceremony, do you think that—”

“I doubt that Galo and I will ever be separated long enough for that to be an issue,” Lio cuts in smoothly. “Rest assured, I will _not_ be caught by surprise a second time.”

“Well, aren’t you two cozy,” Gueira teases.

Lio resists the urge to flick his gaze downward. “Don’t be jealous.”

Gueira gapes incredulously. “Why would I ever be jealous of a guy like—” he breaks off on a pained grunt as Meis elbows him in the stomach.

“Gueira’s just restless because you’ve been gone so long,” Meis deadpans. “He misses you.”

“Like you’re any different!” Gueira squawks.

Lio smiles at them, fondness blooming in his chest. “I’ve missed you both as well. Thyma is a comfort, but she can’t replace my loyal lieutenants.”

Predictably, Gueira and Meis both blush furiously and avert their eyes.

“We should arrive in Madoba in about another hour,” Lio continues, taking advantage of their embarrassment. “Then we’ll spend a day there before heading to Fennel.” As much as he loves Madoba for what it represents, there really isn’t much to do there. “I am...eager for you to meet Galo,” he says honestly. “I know that these aren’t the best of circumstances, but I hope that you can set aside your preconceptions. He is much more than we anticipated.”

Gueira groans loudly and Meis makes a face. “We’ll do our best, boss,” he agrees reluctantly. “If you like him so much, he can’t be that bad.”

“Thank you, and Gueira—” Lio fixes Gueira’s aggrieved face with a firm stare. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that he saved my life.”

Pouting, Gueira slumps backward. “Yeah, I know. I’ll behave.”

“Thank you.” Lio smiles again. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Meis waves. “Later, boss.” And the connection cuts off.

Lio sighs into the ensuing silence, patterned by the smooth rumble of the train, and sets his tablet and headset aside, glancing down.

Galo hadn’t moved an inch during his call, dead to the world with his head in Lio’s lap and his limbs curled awkwardly on the bench seat. It can’t be that comfortable, and Lio had suggested he stay on his own side of the cabin, where he’d at least have a little more space, but Galo had fixed him with wide, pleading eyes, and Lio found his rationality abruptly silenced.

Now, Lio can’t help the little thrill that runs through him as he brushes Galo’s unruly hair out of his face. His gloves are sitting on the table in front of him so Lio is free to feel the surprisingly soft strands against his bare fingers, the smooth heat of Galo’s skin as he skims behind Galo’s ear. This...thing between them is hard to define, especially for Lio and his limited experience with relationships, but when Galo stirs slightly, turning to press his face into Lio’s thigh, Lio can’t find it in himself to fret over labels.

He should probably make a point to inform Gueira and Meis about the shift in their relationship, however. It might be a nasty shock, especially for the deeply protective Gueira, unless Lio primes them beforehand. Thyma had been giddy and knowing when Lio confessed what had occured in Galo’s hotel room, patting Lio almost maternally on the arm before making several suggestive comments. Aina, who decided to stick around through the whole tour in light of recent events, smiles genuinely when they’re around, but Lio would have to be blind to miss the tightness around her eyes. He wonders if it would be prudent to speak to her or if it would only make things worse.

Humming deeply, Galo reaches up sluggishly and catches Lio’s hand in his, dragging him out of his thoughts.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Lio says, voice hushed.

Galo shifts to angle a crooked grin up at him, blinking drowsily. The sun is still high outside, and Galo’s eyes glitter as they catch the light streaming in through the window. He rolls onto his back to look up at Lio properly and Lio feels his heart throb dizzyingly.

“Are we there yet?” Galo asks, voice husky with sleep.

Lio shakes his head. “Another hour.”

“What have you been up to?”

“I just ended a call with my lieutenants.”

“Hope I wasn’t in the way.”

“No.” Lio cards his other hand through Galo’s hair. It’s a little harder now that Galo is awake and looking at him, but the way Galo nearly purrs at the touch overrides any awkwardness. “You need rest.” His gaze catches on the bandages still peeking out from Galo’s short-sleeved shirt. According to the information left by the doctor, the wound is healing perfectly, but it’s only been a few days, and Lio knows very well how fragile regular humans can be.

Humming again, Galo releases Lio’s hand in order to reach his arms over his head, as best he can in the cramped space, and stretch. The motion makes his shirt ride up and Lio’s eyes are magnetized to the strip of toned abdomen briefly visible above Galo’s waistband. He gives himself a mental shake. He’s seen Galo’s entire bare chest on _multiple_ occasions. There’s no reason a flash of skin should be making him blush.

“Excited to be going home?” Galo settles back down, head heavy in Lio’s lap.

Lio cuts his eyes to the scenery whipping past the window. “It’s certainly...a relief.”

“We passed the border already, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you...feel anything? I know the Burnish are tied to the land, so….” Galo trails off curiously and Lio turns back to him, considering.

“I definitely sensed when we re-entered the Core’s area of influence,” he says. “But it was more of an awareness than anything else.”

“When we go back to Promepolis—” Galo’s eyebrows knit together, “—will you get sick again?”

Idly, Lio pokes the little furrow between Galo's brows. “Not if we don’t stay too long. And even if I do, it shouldn’t be nearly as bad.”

“Good.” Galo reaches up and brushes the backs of his fingers against Lio’s cheek before Lio can react. “I don’t want you to go through that again.”

Lio swallows and pinches Galo’s nose. “Smooth-talker.”

“Ow!” Galo laughs and retaliates by burying both hands in Lio’s hair and ruffling playfully. “I was serious though!”

Batting Galo’s hands away, Lio finds himself laughing as well. “That just makes it worse!”

Galo blinks up at him, looking dazed, and before Lio can ask why, he’s being pulled into a kiss.

It’s not the best angle, hunched over as he is, but Galo’s hot, insistent mouth more than makes up for it. Galo loops an arm around Lio’s neck and Lio curls his fingers into Galo’s collar. They haven’t been able to do _this_ much since the first time, too much to do, too many people who need something from them. And Lio can’t deny he’s starving for it.

The thing about kissing Galo is that he wants to do it. Like with everything else about Galo, once he gets a taste, Lio only craves more, and that kind of hunger is very alien to him. This isn’t the passionate desire for justice and peace that’s followed him since his earliest memories, or the comfortingly familiar consummation of the Burnish flame simmering inside him. This is different, a fierce, selfish need that crystallizes further with every stolen kiss and covert touch. And any awkwardness or uncertainty he may feel from the novelty of the whole thing is erased by Galo’s earnestness and evident joy at everything he does.

Like now, when Galo clutches him tighter, smiling into the kiss, Lio is overcome by a rush of unnamable emotion. For a second, the sunlight in his chest is overwhelming and he has to lean back, moving his hand to cover Galo’s mouth and shaking his hair out of his eyes.

Galo grumbles deep in his throat but lets Lio sit up and Lio inhales shakily.

“Too much?” Galo asks, muffled behind Lio’s hand.

“No.” Lio pets through Galo’s messy hair. “If I don’t like something, you will know.”

Galo laughs, and Lio likes the way his smile feels under his palm. “Good.” He blinks up at Lio. “You know, this reminds me of something.”

Rolling his eyes, Lio removes his hand. “Yes, but it’s reversed this time.”

“Wha—how do you know about that?”

“My dedicated PA was kind enough to take a photo.”

“No way! Lemme see.”

“What? Why?”

Galo levers himself up, leaving Lio’s lap bizarrely cold, and twists around to face Lio, eyes pleading. “Please? The only pictures I have of us together are press shots.”

Lio regards him critically. “Why do you want photos of us?”

“Well, because—” Galo’s cheeks darken. “We’re a couple now, right?”

Lio doesn’t avert his eyes, but it’s a struggle. “Yes.”

“So, I’d like to have some pictures of us together that aren’t posed or weird, you know?”

“Fine,” Lio concedes, face burning. “I’ll send it to you.”

Galo pumps a fist in the air in a completely disproportionate show of enthusiasm. Lio shakes his head and retrieves his phone, sending the unflattering photo with a few quick taps.

“Hell yeah!” Galo cheers when his phone chimes in response, opening the message eagerly. “Aw, Lio, you look so cute!”

“That’s enough,” Lio says shortly. “We’ll be arriving soon, so you had better—” he breaks off as an arm wraps around his shoulders, tugging him into the wall of Galo’s body. “What—”

Galo’s laugh is a full-body rumble, so distracting that Lio almost misses the click of Galo’s phone camera. “Hey—!”

“Let’s make lots of memories together, Lio.” Galo presses the words against Lio’s cheek, adjusting his phone in front of them so that Lio can see his own wide-eyed expression through the front-facing camera. “And take all sorts of dumb photos and stay up late texting each other when we’re apart—and all of that. The couple stuff.” On the screen, Lio sees Galo falter slightly, uncertainty tightening around his mouth. “You...you make me want that stuff. We got married for a lot of reasons, and I wish we could have done this in the right order—but—ugh—” he breaks off, arm drooping, lowering his forehead to rest on Lio’s shoulder. “Nothing sounds right—” he mutters. “I don’t—I don’t know how to_ say_ what I’m feeling because none of the words are enough—”

Lio reaches out and calmly plucks Galo’s phone from his lax fingers, holding it back up and tapping the shutter button before Galo can react.

Galo picks his head up. “What—”

Lio snaps another photo and pulls the phone closer, smirking at the frozen image of Galo’s dumbstruck face. “If you want photos—” he starts, selecting the last few shots, “—we’ll take photos.” He sends the files to his own phone and hears it vibrate on the table. “If you want memories, we’ll make memories. We can text each other. You can send me memes in the middle of the night.” Turning enough to catch Galo’s eye, Lio smiles, letting some of the warmth filling his chest show on his face. “I like you, Galo Thymos. I’m glad I married you, because I got to meet you. Whatever else happens now, that’s the truth. Search for the right words if you want to, but that’s never been your strong suit.”

For a beat, Galo just stares at him blankly. Then his smile returns, dazzling as always. “Man, you really _do_ know how to make a guy feel special.” He reclaims his phone and sets it aside, shifting smoothly to brace both hands against the bench seat on either side of Lio. “Let’s take lots of photos—later.”

Lio lets himself be crowded onto his back, relishing the warm pressure of Galo looming over him. “We don’t have much time until we arrive.”

“I’ll make the most of it, then.” Galo noses along Lio’s jaw, breath hot on Lio’s neck.

Lio buries one hand in Galo’s hair, sliding the other over his shoulder, tracing the planes of Galo’s muscular back. “No marks.”

Galo clicks his tongue, hooking a finger into Lio’s turtlenack to graze his teeth against Lio’s pulse point. “Being famous sucks.”

“Hm.” Lio lowers his hand to trace the shell of Galo’s ear, enjoying how Galo shivers at the touch. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Oh?”

Dragging nails lightly across Galo’s face, Lio cups his jaw and pulls his head up to meet his gaze. “Starting on our wedding night, you can do whatever you want.”

Galo’s hazy eyes snap into clarity as the words visibly register in his brain. “Does Promare have, like...consummation laws?”

“No—” Lio rolls his eyes. “After the second ceremony, the media scrutiny will ease up and it will be easier to hide...things like that—” at the thought, heat sparks up his spine and his hand on Galo’s back fists into the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, I got it—” Galo grins impishly. “Understood, boss. You better be prepared.”

“Galo—”

“I’m gonna make an honest man outta you—”

Lio pinches him and Galo just laughs, pressing his delight into Lio’s mouth. Sighing into the kiss, Lio shifts his legs apart to make room for Galo to settle over him. They don’t have a lot of time, but Lio is going to enjoy it.

Truthfully, Lio is a little uncertain about where they go from here. His initial concerns about burning through Galo’s regard for him too quickly still hold, even louder than ever, in fact, but with Galo nuzzling under his jaw, firm hands gripping his waist, while sunlight streams in through the window, it’s easy to push those concerns aside. Whatever happens, he has Galo’s word that they’ll work through it together, and, perhaps foolishly, given how comparatively little time they’ve known each other, Lio trusts him.

They’re together, whatever form that takes.

* * *

Lio’s people _love_ him.

It’s obvious to Galo from the minute they step off the train. The crowds that greet them in Madoba watch Lio with something akin to worship, beaming and cheering and calling “Boss!” in many unified voices. The people of Parnassus were always excited and bustling, but this is different. This is a field of sunflowers turning their faces to the sun, and Lio shines impossibly brighter in their presence.

Just as obvious as the Burnish’s love for Lio is Lio’s love for the Burnish. In Parnassus, he was a pillar of dignity, stoic and unyielding, but as soon as they reach Madoba, he seems to unwind, chatting gently with the folks gathered to see him, bending down to scoop up one of the small children that latch onto his leg. Galo is so distracted watching him that it takes him a while to notice the mixed attention directed at him.

In Parnassus, he’s unequivocally a hero, but Lio had warned him that the Burnish’s attitude toward non-Burnish is wary at best and openly hostile at worst. Galo definitely can’t blame them; after the shit he saw on the border, he’d be leery of Parnassans as well. And as a border city, Madoba has a high concentration of former soldiers and displaced citizens, so Galo was expecting a chilly (for lack of a better term) reception.

What he wasn’t expecting was the curious eyes and intrigued whispers that followed him around the city. There’s definitely hostility mixed in, but the general attitude seems more _interested_ than anything else.

“The video from the museum went viral,” Lio remarks when Galo raises the point during their one night in Madoba. He’s laying out some native Promare produce on the kitchen counter, preparing to make dinner while Galo watches. “Everyone has seen that you tried to protect me. That won’t be enough to convince some people, but it’s a pretty good step in the right direction.”

“Huh.” Galo picks up some sort of flaky root and eyes it over. “That makes sense. I haven’t been on social media recently, so I don’t know what people are saying.”

“It hasn’t been...terrible.” Lio digs a hair tie out of his pocket and bundles his hair into a short ponytail, blowing the remaining strands out of his eyes. “Still a lot of the same bullshit, but if that little stunt did anything, it was suggest that we don’t secretly hate each other.”

“Great!” Galo says, a little squeaky from the sight of Lio’s bare nape. “I don’t want your people to dislike me.”

Lio shoots him a smile, plucking the root from his hand. “I don’t want that either.”

Galo swallows. They haven’t really discussed how they’re going to manage their public image now that they’re actually together. Should they maintain a professional friendliness or act like a real couple? What do couples even do in public? Hold hands? They’ve been doing that already. And the thought of kissing in front of all those people, _really_ kissing, makes Galo’s cheeks burn, but he can’t deny he’d love to be open about his real feelings for Lio. Not in a possessive way, just...he wants everyone to know that Lio is amazing and that Galo is lucky enough to have him.

“Of course, there are a lot of conspiracy theories about what actually happened,” Lio continues, starting to chop the root, which emits a pleasantly spicy scent. “Some people think I planned the whole thing to get you killed, and vice versa.”

Galo leans back against the counter, pursing his lips. “Don’t they know that if you wanted to kill me, you’d just do it?”

Lio laughs. “Apparently not.”

“I’m at least worth a face-to-face execution, right?”

“At this point, yes.” Lio scrapes the root pieces together in a pile and reaches into the pot of water on the stove to check the temperature. A small purple flame flickers on the burner, fulfilling Lio’s agreement to cook with his own flames for Galo to try. “If I need to kill you, I’ll stab you in the front.”

“Thanks, you’re the best,” Galo grins. “But I think I could take you.”

Lio slides him a shining look. “Want to bet on that?”

“Oh?” Galo straightens up. “You wanna test me right now, Regent Fotia?”

“Test what? I don’t see any anti-Burnish mechs lying around, Prince Galo.”

Galo hums, sliding behind Lio to rest a hand on his hip. “I think I’d be able to figure something out,” he murmurs in Lio’s ear, gratified when Lio shivers against him. “You haven’t seen everything I’m capable of yet, Regent.”

Lio grabs his wrist, stilling his hand from tracing any further under the hem of Lio’s shirt. “You’re certainly capable of distracting me,” he huffs.

“Wanna see just _how_ distracting I can be?”

“No,” Lio says, even as he tilts his head to the side for Galo to nuzzle against his neck. “I _want_ to finish what I’m doing.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Do you want to eat or not?”

Pouting, Galo straightens up, but he doesn’t move away yet, enjoying the warmth of Lio plastered along his front. “Oh yeah—” he starts, remembering, “—why does everyone call you _boss_ instead of Regent?”

Lio reaches for a lumpy tomato-looking thing and glances up at him, eyes glittering. “Because I’m the boss.”

Galo heart gives an almost painful twinge and he seriously considers skipping the whole cooking thing in favor of making out with Lio on the kitchen floor, but he manages to restrain himself.

Madoba is an interesting mix of traditional Burnish architecture and war-time construction. The planned buildings are geometric and stark, a unique blend of industrial efficiency and sweeping Grecian columns, but the outermost portions of the city are populated by temporary structures and pop-up communities.

Lio explains that the city is currently being rebuilt and repaired and that there are programs in place to relocate the displaced Burnish, either within Madoba or closer to the Core. Apparently, folks who choose to live in Madoba are usually those with strong natural connections to the Core, so they don’t have to be as close to reap the same benefits. It’s all super fascinating and Galo listens carefully to every piece of information Lio provides, watching intently as the mosaic architecture of Madoba fades into stunning desert outside the train window on their way out of the city.

Aina and Thyma join them in their compartment this time, going over plans for their stay in Fennel and the second ceremony. Varys parted from them before crossing the border, as originally planned, but Aina made an executive decision to stick around as extra insurance, and Galo can’t say he minds. He’s vastly more excited about this wedding than he was about his first one, and he’s pleased to have at least one of his teammates by his side. Aina, for her part, has been a bit quieter than usual since the incident at the museum, but Galo hasn’t been able to puzzle out why.

Halfway through Thyma’s list of vetted tailors who are eager to provide Galo’s outfit for the ceremony, Galo’s phone vibrates, and when he sees Lucia’s name on the readout, he excuses himself from the compartment with a squeeze to Lio’s hand and a quiet _be right back_.

“Yo,” he answers the call, stepping into an empty cabin halfway down the hall. The whole car is empty for security purposes, so he figures the staff won’t mind if he ducks in there for a minute.

“Hey, loverboy,” Lucia responds, smiling audibly over the line. “Got my measurements?”

“Yup. I felt really creepy measuring Lio’s finger while he was asleep, but—” Galo shrugs helplessly even though she can’t see him.

“Ah, the things we do for love,” Lucia giggles. “So did I guess right?”

“You were a half centimeter off—Lio’s ring finger is five centimenters exactly.”

“Dang. Gave that skinny boy too much credit.”

“He’s _fine-boned_,” Galo protests.

“Sure, sure, write poetry on your own time. This hasn’t been a walk in the park, you know? And the smaller it is, the harder it’ll be, plus I’ve only got a few days.”

Galo winces. “Sorry, Lucia. I completely forgot about the rings!”

“And it’s not like you could just walk into a jewelry store, huh? Gotta make it as complicated as possible—it’s so like you, Galo.”

“Lucia—” Galo whines.

She cackles. “Just giving you a hard time, your majesty.” Her voice smooths into something more genuine. “I’m glad you asked for my help. Honestly, I’m over the goddamn moon that you’re so happy. We were all worried, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Galo smiles softly. “You guys are the best.”

“And I’m the _best_ of the best. Wingman extraordinaire! Helping you woo your own husband like we’re in some sort of dime store romance novel. You’re a pretty sappy guy, you know that?”

“It’s not _that_ sappy, is it?” Galo asks, suddenly nervous.

“It’s _pretty_ sappy, dude.”

“But, do you think he’ll like it? Will it be too much?”

She snickers. “When have you ever worried about being _too much_?”

Galo chews his bottom lip, staring blankly out the window. The answer is never, and Lio is the last person on earth who’d want him to hold back, but Galo still can’t shake the persistent desire to do this _right_. “I’m not...always the best with words,” he says haltingly. “But I want to make it really clear. How I feel. Does that make sense?”

After a beat of silence, Lucia heaves a sigh. “We really are in a romance novel,” she mumbles. “But I got you, Galo. And I definitely think he’ll like it. Just charge forward like always.”

Gratitude swells in Galo’s chest and he smiles. “Thanks, Lucia. I will!”

“Yeah, so I should have that taken care of soon,” she continues, all business. “I’ll have to pull some strings to get it to you in time, but I’ll make it happen.”

“You really are the best.”

“And don’t forget it. Anyway, what’s going on over there? You’re about to arrive in Fennel, right?”

“Yup.” Galo peers at the desert flashing past outside. “Promare is amazing. It’s so different from Parnassus, it’s crazy. But you’d love it.”

“I’ll be sure to come visit after you’ve settled in. How’s Aina?”

“She’s—uh—” Galo furrows his brows. “Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”

The other end of the line rustles, like Lucia is shifting around. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.”

“Well, to be honest—” Galo scratches his cheek. “She’s been kind of...distant? Since the museum.”

Lucia hums. “I see.”

“Do you know why?”

“Galo—” she sighs and Galo tenses. “Just, make sure to talk to her before the ceremony, okay?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, but it’s none of my business. If you think she seems distant, you need to talk to her.”

That sounds serious, and Galo’s stomach clenches nervously. “Oh...okay. I will.”

“Buck up, loverboy!” Lucia chirps. “No one’s dead! And you’re getting married! Everything else will work itself out!”

Galo forces himself to relax. If something was truly bothering Aina, she would bring it up. She’s direct like that. “Right!” he says brightly. “Thanks again, Lucia. I wish you guys could all be here.”

“We’ll see you soon enough,” she responds, and Galo can hear keys clicking over the line. “Anyway, I’ve got arrangements to make. Be on the lookout for a delivery!”

“I will!”

“Later!” And she cuts the call.

Galo tucks his phone away and absently pinches his left ring finger. He’s already married to Lio in every sense of the word, so there’s no reason for the anxiety curling in his gut. Maybe it’s the thought of doing it in front of Lio’s people, who all love him so much. He wants to prove to them that he’s taking this seriously, that, regardless of the circumstances, he’s going to treat Lio right.

He shakes his head. It’s not in his nature to dwell on that kind of thing. Whatever happens, he cares about Lio, and that will come through sooner or later. What other people think doesn’t matter.

Newly resolved, Galo turns to leave the compartment and finds himself face-to-face with Aina, who pauses in the doorway, blinking.

“There you are,” she says. “Lio and Thyma had to take a call so I stepped out. Was that Lucia on the phone?”

“Yup!” Galo flashes her a thumbs-up. “Everything is good to go!”

“Great!” She smiles, but once again it looks forced, and Galo realizes this is the perfect chance.

“Hey, uh—” he gestures for her to come into the compartment properly.

She steps inside, eyebrows raised, and Galo slides the door shut.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

“Actually—” Galo turns to face her directly. “I wanted to ask you that.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Aina, uh—” Galo steels himself. “Are you okay?”

“What...what do you mean?” Her eyes dart to the side.

“It’s just—you’ve been kind of quiet recently? I just want to make sure you’re cool.”

“Galo—” Aina crosses her arms, still looking away. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Look, I don’t want to push you, but you’re my best friend, and if something’s bothering you—”

Aina cuts him off with a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You’re...really too sweet, Galo.”

Galo tilts his head. “What?”

“I didn’t want to say anything, but if you noticed something, I must not be hiding it very well.”

“Hiding it?” Galo’s chest twinges in concern. “Seriously, Aina, what’s wrong?”

She finally looks back at him, smiling ruefully. “It’s nothing serious, Galo, just—” she sighs and sinks down onto the bench seat. “Let’s sit.”

Galo sits beside her, tense with anxiety.

“Okay.” Aina folds her hands in her lap and twists her fingers together, brows pulled down in a troubled line. “This isn’t really how I planned to do this, but, well...I never really expected that you’d get married like this so….”

“Married? What does that have to do with it?”

She meets his eyes. “The truth is—I didn’t want you to get married to Lio.”

Galo blinks. “Why?”

“Well—because—” she blows out a breath, shifting her weight. “There were a few reasons—you’re my friend and I didn’t want you trapped in a political contract against your will for the rest of your life. And we didn’t really know anything about Lio—he could have been horrible or something. But even more than that….” She bites her lip and Galo’s stomach flips unpleasantly. “I...I always kind of thought that...we—we would get married someday.”

For a beat, the only sound in the cabin is the quiet rumble of the train around them.

Galo inhales slowly. “Oh.”

“It’s not like I was making plans or anything.” Aina folds into herself a bit, eyes down. “And it wasn’t an _ownership_ thing...but—” she glances back up. “I _did_ like you. You’re kind of oblivious, but you’re sweet, and I felt like we really understood each other. I always figured...if I was going to date anyone—_marry_ anyone...it would be you.”

“Why didn’t you...say anything?” Galo asks softly.

She shakes her head. “I always thought I’d have time. You’ve been dealing with a lot since your adoption, and I had it in my head that I’d say something after things calmed down. And even then, it wasn’t like you were dating. I wasn’t...worried.” She lets out a chuckle. “I never expected you’d have to get married to save the country. When we heard about the engagement, I was...stunned. I guess I was heartbroken.” Her small smile is bitter. “How could I say anything then? You were going through enough, and I didn’t want to add to it. Plus, what would be the point? You were engaged, and you seemed...well, not fine, but accepting. Definitely not like you were deeply in love with me and willing to throw it all away.”

Galo slumps slightly, remembering his callousness about the whole thing in the months leading up to the wedding, and Aina’s steadfast presence by his side. How much was she hurting while he just carried on, oblivious? What kind of friend does that make him? “I’m...I’m so sorry. I never realized—”

She waves a hand. “I didn’t want you to. I didn’t even want to _think _about it after a while because the whole thing just made me so angry at myself.” She groans, bracing her elbows on her knees and leaning her forehead against her hand. “I mean—you were basically being sold to the shadowy ruler of an enemy nation, and I was moping about my damn crush. What right did I have to be upset?”

“Aina—” Galo furrows his brows, “—it’s not about _rights_ or who has it worse or anything. That...that sounds like it _sucked_. If I had known….” he trails off. If he had known...what? What would he do? Call off the wedding? Run off with Aina? Neither of them would have wanted that. And there’s the inescapable fact that he’s _not_ in love with Aina. He wasn’t then and he’s not now. Knowing Aina’s feelings wouldn’t have changed anything, but still—

“Nothing would have changed,” Aina says, voicing Galo’s miserable thoughts with her typical alacrity. “We both care too much about peace to jeopardize the treaty.”

“Yeah, but—” Galo runs a hand through his hair restlessly. “I always had you guys, you know? Even when I felt weird about the whole thing, you were always there for me, you especially, Aina—” he meets her gaze, throat tight. “But...you were alone the whole time. I can’t imagine what that felt like. Looking after my dumb ass, and never saying anything—” he reaches for her hand but rethinks it at the last second and pulls back, fist clenching. “No one deserves that. I wish...I could have been there for you.”

She stares at him, eyes glittering. “You—” With a sigh, she presses both hands over her face. “You really have _no_ idea, do you?” she mumbles, voice muffled.

“Idea about what?” Galo asks, panic mounting. Did he fuck up?

“This is exactly why I fell for you, you idiot.” She sweeps her hands up, over her hair, and straightens, leveling him with a pinched look. “And you’re not even trying! You’re a real menace, Galo Thymos.”

“Uh—” Galo spreads his hands helplessly. “Sorry?”

“No, don’t apologize.” She drops her hands. “I tried to forget everything after the wedding, and I thought I was good, but when I saw you with Lio—” she takes a deep breath. “I guess I wasn’t as over it as I thought I was. Don’t get me wrong—I never thought you’d cheat on Lio or anything, but—” she shrugs. “I don’t know. As long as it was strictly business, I felt kind of vindicated? I could tell myself I hadn’t lost out to anyone. The circumstances were to blame, that kind of thing. But then you and Lio...fell in love.”

Galo’s chest tightens, recalling how Aina reacted when she walked in on them cuddling. “Fuck,” he breathes.

“I like Lio,” she continues quickly. “I really, really like him. And I care about him, and—” she reaches a tentative hand over and rests it on Galo’s arm. “I want him to be happy. I want both of you to be happy. I was genuinely relieved when you two started getting along, but...I realized pretty quickly that there was more to it. The two of you have something really special. And I didn’t want to see it at first, but it’s undeniable.” She sighs, grimacing. “It was...hard. Seeing him make you so happy. But, Galo—” her grip on his arm tightens and her eyes, when he meets them, are shining resolutely. “I am happy for you. There is no universe where my feelings for you keep me from supporting you. Or Lio. Believe me.”

“Of course I believe you, Aina,” Galo responds instantly. “Me and Lio...I’ve never felt this way about anyone, but I’ve also never felt _this way_—” he curls his hand over hers, “—about anyone. Aina, you mean so much to me, and I don’t think I’ve ever said it before, but I love you.” He swallows past the lump in his throat, fighting the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Even more than Kray, you’ve been like my family for years now. You’re my best friend, and nothing will ever change that. Unless—” his voice drops slightly, uncertain, “—you don’t want that anymore.” If Aina doesn’t want to hang around him after all this, he couldn’t blame her.

But Aina shakes her head fiercely, leaning forward. “Of course I still want that, Galo. I will always be your friend. More than whatever other feelings I have, you’re like family to me too, and I would never change that.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, and when she reopens them, she’s smiling. It’s wan and thin, but it’s real. “As long as you want me, I’ll be here. Trying to keep you out of trouble. You and Lio both.”

Galo can’t stop the tears that pour down his cheeks even as he smiles back at her. “Aina—can I hug you?”

She makes a show of rolling her eyes but nods, and Galo wraps his arms around her, pulling her tight against him.

“You’re such a crybaby,” she mutters, but Galo can feel the shoulder of his shirt growing damp and she clings back just as hard.

He laughs wetly into her hair, chest warm with affection. “But you love this crybaby.”

“Shut up.” She sniffles, curling her fingers into his shirt. “I’m gonna get over you if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Good luck. I’m pretty amazing, you know.”

She pulls back to slap him playfully on the arm, and her smile is one of the best things Galo has ever seen.

* * *

Lio has to fight to keep from bouncing up and down as the train pulls into the station. It wouldn’t do for the Regent of Promare to be seen as antsy. It also wouldn’t do for him to pry the doors open and leap onto the platform before the train is completely stopped.

“You’re pretty excited, huh,” Galo remarks at his side.

Lio glances back at him. His eyes are still a little red from whatever transpired while he and Aina were gone from the compartment, but he assured Lio it was nothing bad and that he’d fill him in later, so Lio didn’t press. “I am,” he admits. “My lieutenants are...very dear to me. And I have missed them a lot.”

Galo smiles softly and Lio feels a hand settle at the small of his back, warm and steadying through his shirt. “I’m excited to meet them. You haven’t really said much about them.”

“They’re very unique.” Lio turns back to the doors, perking up as the scenery outside stills completely and the train hisses. “And very protective of me. To be painfully honest, they may not take to you at first.”

“That’s fine. I like a challenge.”

Whatever Lio was going to say in response vanishes from his mind as the doors slide open smoothly.

Gueira and Meis are instantly visible, striding out of the gaggle of other government officials toward the train, and when they catch sight of him, they both break into a run, Gueira waving his arms.

At the sight of his two closest friends, in person after so long, Lio nearly abandons decorum and dashes off the train, but he manages to limit himself to a hasty stride.

“Boss!” Gueira cheers, barely slowing in time to avoid bowling Lio over. He’s nearly quivering with excitement, and Lio can tell that he’s seconds from throwing his arms around him, held back only by a firm pat from Meis.

Lio beams up at both of them. If the press wasn’t already surrounding them, cameras clicking away, he’d be more than happy to let Gueira hug him, but he does have something of an image to maintain. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long,” Meis smiles crookedly, one hand on his hip.

“You both look well.” They look the same as when Lio left. Dressed a little more formally perhaps, and Meis’s hair is pulled into a low ponytail, but Gueira’s jacket is still unzipped, and they’re both still slouching in an attempt to not tower over Lio as much.

“So do you, surprisingly.” Meis shakes his head. “I knew I should have gone with you. You get into too much trouble on your own.”

“As if you haven’t gotten into plenty of trouble here without me.”

“We’ve been perfect angels, boss!” Gueira protests.

“Maybe _you_ have,” Meis grumbles. “You need to cause trouble to get anything done around here.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Fondness warms Lio’s chest as he looks up at them. “I knew I could count on my lieutenants.” He extends a hand, summoning a small, dancing flame to his palm.

Gueira visibly fights back tears as he mirrors the action, and Meis joins in, eyes shining. With a flicker of prismatic light, Lio’s fire combines with theirs, replacing the diffuse sunlight on the platform with a joyful purple glow.

The heat in Lio’s veins sings in satisfaction at being joined to Gueira and Meis again after so long.

But he can’t indulge too much; joining flames is a pretty common greeting in Promare, but they shouldn’t linger on the platform too long. The media in Promare is much gentler about him than the media in Parnassus, and his closeness with his lieutenants is well-documented, but they have a lot to do today. Not to mention—

“Gueira, Meis—” Lio starts, closing his hand to extinguish his fire and half-turning to gesture Galo forward. “This is Prince Galo Thymos.”

Galo is at his side in an instant, grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hi!” he greets enthusiastically, offering a hand to shake. “Just call me Galo. I’m so excited to finally meet you!”

To his credit, Meis barely pauses before accepting Galo’s handshake. “Meis,” he says with a curt nod.

Galo turns to Gueira next, smile unwavering. Gueira scrunches up his nose, glancing at Lio. Lio stares back evenly.

“Gueira,” Gueira mutters finally, submitting to a begrudging handshake.

“Where’s Thyma?” Meis asks.

“Right here!” Thyma’s voice pipes up at Lio’s elbow. “I’ve been here for at least a minute.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t see you there.”

Thyma smacks Meis on the arm. “Lio gets an emotional fire joining and I get mocked? The audacity.”

Meis chuckles and Gueira moves to ruffle Thyma’s hair, but she ducks out of the way with a warning glare. “Anyway, let’s move this reunion somewhere else, shall we?” she suggests pointedly, gesturing toward the exit.

Lio glances around at the curious press members and the herd of impatient-looking officials waiting for them. “Right.” He turns to Galo. “We’ll be staying at my personal flat, but I have a few things I need to take care of today, so I’ll have a car take you and Aina there first.”

“You sure?” Galo hunches down a little to keep the words between them. “I’m happy to come help.”

The smile that creeps across Lio’s face is much too soft for polite company, but he can’t help it. “I’m just picking up some materials. I’ll join you soon.”

Galo’s answering expression settles in Lio’s chest like warm honey. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Lio wants to reach up and cup Galo’s cheek, lift up on his toes and press a promise to Galo’s mouth, but Guiera and Meis are staring daggers at them, the flash of cameras still throwing sharp arcs of light across their group, and it’s not the right time.

So Lio just nods and leads the way out of the station.

“Okay,” Guiera squeaks a few minutes later, sitting across from Lio in the car heading to the Regency. “What the _fuck_ was that?”

“Sure looks like you’re getting along well with Prince Galo,” Meis says in an accusatory tone. “_Really _well.”

Lio adjusts his gloves, switching his gaze from the familiar scenery sliding past the window to his lieutenants’ expectant faces. “Regarding that—I have something I need to tell you both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i occasionally post updates and sneak peaks of my work on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast) and [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/), along with other fandom stuff, if that interests you! the next chapter WILL most likely be after the big burn, but it is coming. never fear.
> 
> please be alert, be kind, and be safe. i'm thinking about every single one of you <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're cordially invited to a very different state-sponsored wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is NOT an April Fool's joke! i know i said i probably wouldn't be posting until i finished my big burn fic, but what can i say? i love this fic so much and i've got a lot of time on my hands lol.
> 
> i'm in love with the actual galolio merch rings, and my rings might seem a bit similar, but for my own pride's sake i want to say i've known what their rings would look like since chapter 3, so i'm not copying! guilty crown and i are both just on the same wavelength. (also, fun fact that i forgot to mention: Lio's finger was modeled after mine, so if you thought 5 cm seemed really small, blame my tiny hands)
> 
> this is a pretty long chapter so i hope it brings you some measure of distraction and comfort.

Galo’s not sure what he expected Lio’s place to look like.

So far, he’s mostly seen Lio in impersonal hotel suites, dressed in carefully selected outfits. Even at his most casual, in pajamas or lounge clothes, he’s always perfectly put-together and stylish. The most disheveled he’s ever been in front of Galo was probably the week he was sick, but that wasn’t by his own choice so Galo doesn’t count it.

The apartment Galo walks into is somehow surprising and exactly what he expected. It’s larger than his own place, but just barely, and Galo thinks most of the size difference comes down to height, since the flat has the same tall, exposed ceilings he’s seen in other buildings around Promare. In general, the design is very in keeping with Burnish architecture: sleek lines and matte metal accents with industrial structural elements. Lots of stone and metal but almost no wood.

Galo’s footsteps tap dully on the smooth stone floor as he wanders deeper into the apartment, peering around intently. It’s open-concept, with the foyer bleeding into the living room bleeding into the kitchen and a blocky staircase leading up to a lofted area with several doors. Galo peeks inside one at random and finds a large, airy bedroom. Another leads to a smaller but similarly neat guest room and the last opens to a stylish office. Floor-to-ceiling windows in every room let in the streaming afternoon sunlight and offer broad views of Fennel and the volcano that brackets the city to the north.

They’re only on the third floor, but the whole building is built into a rocky outcropping that elevates it above most of the city. Regardless, this is probably the tallest Burnish building Galo’s been in so far; the people of Promare seem to prefer to keep their feet on the ground.

So it’s elegant and sophisticated, which Galo expected, and it’s pretty easy to imagine Lio moving from room to room, standing in front of the huge windows, matching the polished surroundings in his slick outfits, but nothing about the apartment really indicates that Lio _lives_ there.

Galo snoops as much as he feels comfortable with, but he fails to find any personal items or even decorations that look like Lio picked them out. Everything is neat and organized, but it all seems staged. Even with the sun warming the stone floors, the apartment is cold.

Thyma arrives not long after Galo and Aina, bustling through the door with a shouted greeting. Galo meets her in the foyer, hoping to see Lio with her, but she’s alone, and when she catches sight of him, she quickly hides a small shopping bag behind her back.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “He’s at the Regency, but he shouldn’t be too much longer!” She smiles innocently, edging past him.

“Okay?” Galo watches quizzically as she darts up the stairs and disappears into the bedroom.

“What was that about?” Aina asks from behind him.

He shoots her a shrug.

“Okay!” Thyma says loudly when she descends the stairs a few minutes later, clapping her hands. “Let’s order food! Lio definitely won’t be thinking about dinner when he gets back.” She purses her lips down at her phone. “I’d better text Meis to make sure we don’t have the same idea.”

Galo flops down on the large, angular couch and watches her scroll for a second while Aina noses around the tall bookshelves. “I haven’t had Burnish takeout yet. Lio cooked last night.”

Thyma smiles without looking up. “It’s so sweet that he cooks for you. He hasn’t really had time since the election. None of us have, actually. That’s why—” she wiggles the phone pointedly, “—I’ve got his favorite places in my contacts.”

Absently, Galo wonders if it’s weird to be excited about eating from one of Lio’s favorite restaurants.

“Aina—” Thyma says, glancing up, “—you don’t like onions, right?”

Aina blinks, looking startled. “That’s right. How did you know that?”

“You always pick them off your food.” Thyma mimics the delicate way Aina plucks onions out of her burgers with one hand. “Give them to me next time. I _love _onions.”

“Oh—okay.” Aina smiles. “I’ll remember that.” She flicks her eyes to Galo, who meets her with raised eyebrows, and she looks away again, pink blooming on her cheeks.

Hm. Galo considers her and Thyma, who’s absorbed in her phone as though nothing happened. _Interesting_.

* * *

Dinner last night was strange.

Lio would be the first to admit it, but maybe that’s because he’s the only one who seemed to notice.

Thyma and Aina spent the entire time giggling together over their food. While traveling, Aina rarely ate with them, since she was technically working most of the time, but here, Lio’s building is incredibly secure, so she can afford to relax, and Thyma seemed to have been waiting for an opportunity to chat unhindered. So they were absorbed in their own little world, unaware of the silent battle taking place across the table.

To be fair, Galo was also unaware, and he was at the epicenter of the whole thing. He spent the evening eating an incredible amount of food, sliding his hand farther and farther up Lio’s thigh under the table, and responding enthusiastically to Gueira and Meis’s questions, completely oblivious to the blatantly probing nature of said questions.

Lio did his best to curtail them, but Gueira and Meis were incorrigible all throughout dinner, ignoring Lio’s warning glares to heckle Galo with pointed questions about his life as prince. Gueira was, predictably, the worse of the two. Meis’s inquiries could charitably be passed off as curiosity, but there was no excuse for Gueira’s shameless prying. It got so bad that Lio had to cut off a rude remark about Galo’s past dating experience with a sharp kick to Gueira’s shin under the table.

Gueira looked betrayed, but Lio just narrowed his eyes and spooned more noodles onto Galo’s plate.

Honestly, it’s a good thing that Galo doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss with his lieutenants. The last thing Lio wants is for Galo to feel unwelcome in his country. But Gueira and Meis, however pure their intentions might be, need to suck it up. If they don’t get it together, Lio will be having strong words with them sometime before the ceremony.

Right now, though, he’s sitting on his couch with Galo, going over some documents for his next Council meeting, his first since the wedding. Guiera and Meis are at the Regency, banished to deskwork for the day, and Thyma took Aina with her on wedding preparation business, so they’re alone.

The TV is on, turned to a classic film channel, and Galo seems to be half watching the screen and half listening to Lio mumble to himself. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows and the apartment is as warm as Lio likes it, which has got to be hot by Galo’s standards, but Galo isn’t complaining, nor does he seem uncomfortable, despite the fact that Lio is tucked under his arm, leaning against his chest, surely adding to the heat. Unless Galo says something, however, Lio isn’t going to move. He’s too comfortable, and Galo’s muscular arm around his shoulders is the only thing keeping him from shredding his reports and incincerating them at this point.

“The Council isn’t elected, is it?” Galo asks idly, and his voice hums through his chest into Lio where they’re connected.

Lio sighs, dropping the page he just finished reading off the couch and onto the floor. “No. The Regent assigns the Council members, but the process is so long and complicated that I haven’t been able to replace the current ones yet.” He rifles through the pages he still needs to read. “That will be the first thing I do when we get back,” he mutters darkly.

“Who assigned the current guys?”

“The Regent before the Regent before me.”

“Whoa, so they’ve been there for a while.”

“Yes. It’s a lifetime position unless they’re replaced, and my predecessor had no reason to replace them.”

“What about the Regent position? Do you have, like...terms?”

Lio shifts, pressing himself more firmly into Galo’s side. “A Regency is ten years, then an election is held to determine if the current Regent should continue. If the people vote no, an election between two candidates is held to decide who will replace them.”

“Wait—you have an election just to decide if you should have an election?” Galo sounds incredulous and Lio glances up at him, frowning.

“You can’t talk. Parnassus is a monarchy.”

“I didn’t say anything—” Galo raises his hands defensively. “It’s just all new to me.” He lowers his hands, brows furrowed thoughtfully. “We’ve been at war for so long, but I really don’t know much about how Promare works.”

“Well, we didn’t exactly want to advertise our customs to the enemy.”

“And now, Burnish government will probably be taught in Parnassan middle schools.”

“That’s the dream, right?”

Galo cranes his head down to brush his nose against Lio’s temple, smiling. “Yup.”

Lio’s heart swoops dizzyingly in his chest. “Are you ready for the ceremony?” he asks softly.

Leaning back slightly, Galo rests one hand on Lio’s hip. “I think so. Is there anything I should know that might surprise me?”

“Nothing too shocking. Burnish weddings aren’t that different from what you’re used to. The audience is set up arena-style, and the couple exchanges rings, but that’s it.” He considers telling Galo exactly how the Burnish exchange rings, but that would ruin the surprise. At the thought of the second ceremony, rapidly approaching in less than two days, Lio’s stomach flutters. Frankly, he’s lucky that their vows were pre-written, otherwise he fears he wouldn’t be able to resist embarrassing himself in front of the whole country.

Galo nods, lips pursed thoughtfully. Suddenly, he straightens up, staring at the TV. “Hey, whoa, what’s going on?”

Lio turns to the screen, alarmed that some aspect of his culture might be too alien for Galo, but after a second, he laughs, relaxing. The film playing at the moment must be at least a decade old, going by the clothes the actors are wearing, and an attractive woman is currently leaning over a seemingly unconscious man, sealing her mouth over his as tendrils of flame creep over her lips. “She’s just giving him CPR, Galo. Something dramatic must have happened.”

“CPR?” Galo stares wide-eyed as the light in the woman’s mouth passes into the man’s, glowing as it trickles down his throat and spreading throughout his chest. Lio wonders if they used some sort of computer effect or if the actors were actually rekindling. “Is _that_ how you do CPR in Promare?”

“Rekindling is the primary method of cardiopulmonary resuscitation here, yes.” Lio sits up a bit to better see the screen. “Sorry, I guess you wouldn’t know.”

“No, I—wait, like, what’s happening? How does that work?” Excitement bleeds into Galo’s voice. “Do you not use standard CPR? I mean, your bodies _do _work differently, so I shouldn’t be surprised, but—” His nose scrunches up. “Wait, you _do _have lungs and stuff right?”

“Galo, we sleep in the same bed, I think you’d know if I didn’t need to _breathe_.”

“Okay, yeah,” Galo chuckles. “And I’ve definitely felt your heart pounding away in there—” he taps one finger against Lio’s sternum. “So, would normal CPR work for you?”

Distracted by the ticklish heat of Galo’s hand settling back on his waist, Lio takes a second to answer: “In some circumstances. It takes a lot to incapacitate us, since we can heal, and usually life-threatening injuries are the result of being forced to overextend our powers, which would prevent us from healing. If our fire goes out, we die, but if someone rekindles us in time, we can recover from nearly anything. So most emergencies involve our fire depleting or going out, but in a situation where our breathing or heart stopped without affecting our fire, I suppose regular CPR would work.” Lio presses a finger to his lips, thinking. “Perhaps…drowning might be the best example of that. I’ve never seen it firsthand, but I read that water can inhibit a Burnish’s power enough that the body might die before the fire can evaporate the water. So just getting the victim breathing again would be enough. Heavy-duty freezing weapons. Or maybe some types of poison….” Lio trails off, humming. He’s never considered the utility of human CPR for Burnish people, but it might be something to look into. If the people of Promare and Parnassus are going to be mingling more, regular CPR courses for interested citizens certainly wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Galo is quiet for a second, and when Lio glances up, he’s gazing intently at the screen, brows furrowed. The two film actors are now embracing tearfully. “Have you ever seen it done?” Galo asks seriously.

Lio takes a breath. “A few times. On the border.”

“Right, you—” Galo runs a hand through his hair, “—you fought on the border. I...keep forgetting.”

“I don’t bring it up if I can avoid it.” Lio isn’t ashamed of his brief military career, but he wishes it hadn’t been necessary. “Neither of us should have been there.”

Galo grimaces. “You can say that again.”

“But, yes, I’ve seen it done. In reality, it’s much less—” Lio gestures expansively at the screen, where a different actor is now yelling at the man and woman from before, “—cinematic, and much more—” he pauses, veins of half-remembered panic seeping into his gut as a dimly lit cave flits through his mind—ears ringing with Gueira’s wrecked, desperate voice—

_Meis—Meis, please, don’t—you can’t leave me—please—_and a flash of dazzling turquoise light—

“...frantic.” Lio clears his throat, tightening his grip on his papers. “Rekindling is only necessary in very dire emergencies, so I hope you never have to see it.”

“Hm.” Galo tilts his head to rest his cheek in Lio’s hair, and Lio focuses on his comforting weight to banish the last remnants of memory. “So she was using her fire to reignite his fire?”

“Essentially.”

“That’s super cool.”

Lio chuckles. “You really are easily impressed. Did you react like this in your regular CPR classes?”

“Of course! Saving a life is always super cool!”

Lio can picture it: Galo bouncing in his seat from excitement while a perplexed instructor demonstrates proper technique on a mannequin. He smiles at the thought, turning back to his documents. “You have a point.”

“Hey, come on—” a hand descends and plucks his papers away from him, and before Lio can react, he’s being tugged across Galo’s lap by a firm grip on his waist.

“What—”

“Watch this with me.” Galo flashes him a pleading look, one arm still hooked around Lio’s middle, the other keeping Lio’s legs slung over his own thighs. “I’m confused by Burnish culture and I need you to explain things to me.”

“It’s not that complicated and you’re not that stupid.” Lio squirms half-heartedly, but Galo only holds him tighter. “I’m still working—”

“Aren’t we on our honeymoon?” A sly glint sparkles through Galo’s affected helplessness. “They’ll understand.”

Lio feels his cheeks grow warm. Galo’s arch expression, coupled with the large hand spanning his side, sends Lio’s thoughts back to the nondescript shopping bag currently hidden in his closet.

When Thyma dragged him upstairs with an impish smile last night, Lio sensed something amiss, but he wasn’t prepared for the rush of embarrassment that flooded through him when she held the bag open for him to peek inside.

“Thyma,” he hissed, jerking back. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She giggled, unrepentant. “I had to guess at your sizes, so I grabbed a few just in case—”

“Thyma!” Lio cut her off, cheeks flaming. “I can...I can do my own _shopping_.”

“Oh?” She lifted an eyebrow. “And when exactly were you planning to run to the store for _these_, Regent?”

He froze.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She grabbed his wrist and placed the handles of the bag in his palm. “You’re welcome.”

Now, Lio meets Galo’s playful gaze and swallows, trying to dampen the heat rippling in his stomach. “Fine,” he relents. He always does with Galo.

Galo cheers and relaxes back against the couch cushions, pulling Lio with him so that Lio’s head is resting in the dip of Galo’s shoulder. “Honestly, I haven’t been paying attention and I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I’ve never seen this film before, how am I supposed to help?” Lio grumbles, but he still snakes his arms around Galo’s chest and curls into his warmth with a sigh.

They never get around to figuring out what the movie was about.

* * *

Galo doesn’t have much reason to leave the apartment until the wedding.

There aren’t any events planned and it’s safer for him to stay in one place, and Galo’s fine with that. After all the activity the past few weeks, he finds that he’s surprisingly content to chill out for a few days. His arm is technically still healing, but who cares about that. Plus, the apartment is where Lio is, so why would he leave?

But when he gets a notification on his phone that there’s a delivery waiting for him on the first floor, Galo nearly vaults out of bed. It kills him to have to dislodge Lio from where he’s pressed up against him from behind, face buried between Galo’s shoulder blades, but it’s before Lio’s designated wake-up time, so he just rolls over and slumbers peacefully on. Galo spares him a fond look before hurrying out of the bedroom.

He slips his shoes on in the entryway. He’s in his sleep clothes, but Lucia’s courier won’t care and the security team is already used to him.

The nondescript delivery woman is standing outside the building’s bank of glass doors when he steps off the elevator and he waves to the guards stationed in the lobby as he lets her in. They eye him carefully but don’t interfere and he leads her into the lobby’s seating area.

“Prince Galo,” she greets with a tip of her hat.

“Yup! What’s your name?”

“Avi.”

“Avi, I’m amazed you got here so fast!”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time.” She reaches into her bag and produces a large padded envelope. “Ms. Fex didn’t request a signature, so I’ll just be leaving this in your care.”

“Thanks!” Chest bubbling with excitement, Galo accepts the envelope. “Really, thanks so much.”

“It’s my job, Prince Galo.”

“Oh—shit—a tip, hang on—I left my wallet upstairs—”

Avi raises a hand. “That’s really not necessary. I was over-compensated for this delivery already.”

Galo settles down. “If...if you say so.”

“I do.” She tips her hat again. “Have a nice day, Prince Galo. And congratulations.”

“Uh...thank you!” Galo waves cheerfully as she strides calmly out of the building.

He looks down at the envelope, weighing it in his hands. Lucia didn’t send him any progress pictures, so what lies inside is still a complete mystery. Just as he’s debating where to stash it until the wedding, his phone buzzes with a text.

_I see that the eagle has landed_.

Galo grins, quickly texting Lucia back:

_it did!! righht on time!!! ur amazing_

_I know. And remember, the ring goes on the ring finger of the NON-DOMINANT hand. Lio is a leftie, so it goes on his right. Got it?_

_yeh yeah i knew that alrady_

_Don’t get uppity with me when you FORGOT you needed a ring in the first place._

_luv u lucia!!_

Tucking his phone back in his pocket, Galo heads back to the elevator, carrying the envelope like it’s made of glass.

As the elevator door starts to slide shut, a hand reaches inside and grabs it.

“Whoa—” Galo lunges forward and hits the door open button. “Careful, you—” when he looks up, both of Lio’s lieutenants are stepping casually into the elevator with him. “Oh, hey!”

“Hey,” the red-haired one, Guiera bites out.

The one with the long, dark hair, Meis, just nods.

“Going to see Lio?” Galo asks, punching the button for the third floor. The first floor is a reception area, and the second floor seems to mostly have meeting rooms on it, so Galo can’t imagine what else they’d be here for. “He was still asleep when I came down, but he’ll be up soon—ah—” Galo scratches his cheek. “You probably know that already, though.”

“Yeah, we do,” Gueira says shortly, and Galo doesn’t miss the way Meis nudges him with his elbow.

Lio’s lieutenants seem really cool. Galo still doesn’t know much about them, since so far they seem way more keen on learning about him than sharing about themselves, but it’s obvious that the deep love and respect they have for Lio is mutual, and if they’re important to Lio, they’re alright by Galo.

However, he can’t shake the lingering feeling that they don’t really like _him_. It makes sense, he supposes. Promare and Parnassus have been enemies for so long, and with how protective Gueira and Meis are of Lio, Galo isn’t surprised they’re wary of him, and Lio warned him it might take some time for them to get used to things. It seemed like they were making some progress last night, but if the sour look on Gueira’s face is anything to go by, perhaps Galo was premature in his assumptions.

After a few tense seconds, silent but for the smooth hum of the elevator, Meis nods toward Galo, his visible eye assessing. “How’s the arm?”

“The—oh!” Galo glances down at the bandage on his bicep, on display thanks to the short-sleeved shirt he slept in. “Fine! No problems.” Indeed, the stab wound is healing perfectly according to the instructions left by the doctor. The stitches are starting to dissolve and the only reason Galo is even still dressing it is to protect the newly forming skin around the scar.

Meis nods again and Galo is just celebrating the normal interaction when Gueira lets out a strained groan.

“That’s it!” Just as the elevator starts to open on the third floor, Gueira slams the door close button and rounds on Galo before Galo can react. “What’s your game, Thymos?” he demands as the door whooshes shut.

“Game?” Galo squawks.

“Gueira!” Meis snaps.

“Don’t stop me, Meis, you’re just as suspicious as I am!” Gueira turns furious eyes on Galo and Galo realizes with a sinking feeling that he misread the situation entirely. “Spit it out!”

“What—what are you asking?” Galo stammers, hands raised non-threateningly.

“Lio told us about your _relationship_,” Gueira spits.

“Okay?” Galo glances nervously at Meis, who pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s good?”

“No!” Guiera takes an aggressive step forward. “You seem to have him completely convinced, but who’s going to believe you just happened to fall in love with someone you were forced to marry?”

Galo blinks. “Did...did he say he’s in love with me?”

“What are you playing at!!”

“Okay—” Galo backs up and feels the elevator railing dig into the small of his back. “I know it seems crazy—when you put it like that, anyway—but—well, we spent a lot of time together and—”

“And you figured he’d fall for your little act?”

“Hey, whoa—” Galo frowns, “—you know as well as I do that Lio wouldn’t fall for anyone’s _act_!”

“Exactly,” Meis hisses, grabbing Geuira’s arm. “Gueira, we _talked_ about this—”

“It’s too convenient,” Gueira snarls, jerking away from Meis and gesturing furiously at Galo. “You heard Lio at the beginning, Meis! He didn’t want anything to do with this guy! Since when have we known the Boss to change his mind?”

“That’s—”

“He’s _opinionated_, not stubborn,” Galo insists. “And it’s his business what he does with—”

“I don’t wanna hear that from you!” Gueira jabs an accusing finger in Galo’s face, eyes flashing dangerously. “Who are you, anyway?”

“What?” Galo snaps, feeling his temper rise.

“Some trophy prince from Parnassus—” Gueira scoffs. “When have you ever worked for a damn thing?”

Anything Galo could have said to defend himself gets stuck as his throat tightens with anger.

“You have _no_ idea what he’s been through because of _your_ people,” Guiera continues, practically breathing smoke on every word. “What we’ve all been through—”

“Gueira, that’s not fair,” Meis protests sharply.

“He was military, Meis!”

“Are you proud of everything you did on the border?”

“That’s not—”

“None of us should have been there,” Galo cuts in fiercely, echoing what Lio said yesterday. “But we can’t change the past—Lio and I are gonna make sure nothing like that ever happens again!”

“Big words from a firefighter,” Gueira sneers.

Galo bristles. “I don’t see what that—”

“What are you getting out of this, huh?” Gueira presses on mercilessly. “Is taking Lio for a ride just fun for you? Or are you planning something?”

“You are _way_ off, buddy,” Galo growls, straightening up to his full height. “You don’t know anything about me—”

“I know enough—”

“Stop, Gueira, we’re not doing this here—” Meis tries to intervene, but Galo’s had enough.

“No, you listen—” he takes a step forward, jaw set. The envelope crinkles as he clenches his fists. “I get that this is weird and surprising and that you don’t trust me because of where I’m from—”

Gueira opens his mouth to say something but Meis kicks him unsubtly, a grim look on his face.

“—but Lio is an adult, and his choices are his own. I can’t change his mind and neither can you. If you’re not willing to trust Lio on this, then nothing I say is going to make a difference—”

“We do trust Lio!” Gueira shouts.

“You’re not acting like it!”

“Lio is willing to do whatever it takes to save Promare,” Meis grinds out. “We trust him, but we have to take his...tendency to self-sacrifice into account.”

Ice spears through Galo’s chest. “You think I...that I’m blackmailing him?” he chokes. “Or...what? Threatening him?”

“I didn’t say that.” Meis crosses his arms, pinning Galo with one narrowed eye. “I only mean we have to be...cautious.”

Galo’s first instinct is to rage on Lio’s behalf. His lieutenants don’t think he’s capable of making his own decisions, despite everything Lio has done for them, how much Lio cares for them—but he swallows that knee-jerk indignation and takes a deep breath. Memories of the night after the wedding flash through his head. Lio’s utter determination to make the treaty a success, even if that meant untethering Galo from the relationship completely. And later, when he indicated he’d be willing to offer his body if it came to that—

Lio is definitely capable of making his own choices, but Gueira and Meis have a point. When it comes to the kinds of stakes Lio is dealing with, things get dicey really quickly.

“Okay,” he breathes out, staring evenly at the two men in front of him. “What, exactly, are you worried about?”

Gueira and Meis glance at each other. “What?” Gueira asks.

“Lio really trusts you guys, so I do too. If you have...issues with our relationship, I want to fix that, because Lio is really important to me and I want to get along with the people he cares about.” Galo leans back against the wall, intentionally this time. “So what’s up?”

“You—” Gueira runs a hand through his wild hair, looking baffled. “Aren’t you...mad?”

“I don’t like being accused of stuff or judged because of my background, but—” Galo shrugs. “I get where you’re coming from. Lio doesn’t have the best sense of self-preservation. If I were in your position, I’d be worried too.” He snorts softly. “From the outside, it probably does look crazy suspicious. I mean, we’d never even met before we were suddenly married, and now we’re...dating? Whatever we are, I’ll admit it’s hard to believe.”

“Yeah, it really is.” Meis tucks his hands in his pockets and tilts his head. “We were...surprised when Lio told us he had genuine feelings for you, but, looking back, it didn’t come out of nowhere. He told us pretty soon after meeting you that you weren’t as vain and stupid as we thought you were.”

Galo scratches his cheek, smiling bashfully. “Aw, really? That’s sweet.”

“But Lio’s never been interested in romance,” Meis continues. “We were...not thrilled about the wedding stipulation in the treaty. We thought—”

“He’s our friend, you know?” Gueira cuts in, eyes on the ground, brows drawn. “Who wants to watch their friend get sold to some stranger who doesn’t even _understand_—”

“Right,” Meis interrupts. “For lack of better words, that’s kind of what it felt like.”

“Like Lio was...selling himself?” Galo questions, stomach flipping unpleasantly.

“How else would you describe it?” Gueira grumbles.

“I think he looked at it like that too,” Meis says. “He treated it like a business transaction, and that was rough to see. When all you want for someone is happiness, and then something like that happens?” He presses his lips together in a grim line. “Plus we didn’t know you. Lio said it didn’t matter what you were like, and we got...nervous.”

Galo knits his brows. Lio is a force of nature, but his commitment to his people is unwavering. Someone less scrupulous than Galo might have taken advantage of that. A shudder runs up Galo’s spine at the thought. “So when we got closer, you were worried I was—was using the treaty to manipulate him.”

The loaded silence in the elevator is all the answer Galo needs.

“Well, I’m not,” Galo offers.

Meis sighs. “We know that.”

Gueira mutters something under his breath.

“Lio’s smart, and if he was being manipulated, he knows he could tell us,” Meis says.

“So then, what?” Galo looks between them. “You think I’m controlling his mind or something?”

Gueira scowls and avoids Galo’s eyes while Meis grimaces. “We just want to make sure—”

“Do you really like him?” Gueira bursts out, finally looking back up at Galo. “Is this for real?”

Galo blinks. “Yes?”

“Seriously? You’re just...okay with it? Spending the rest of your life with a spouse you didn’t choose? You’re not bitter at all? You’re not gonna get sick of Lio and call the whole thing off?”

Galo rolls his eyes. “You sound just like him. Look—after the wedding, we made a promise to be partners. No matter how we feel about each other, that won’t change. I’m just as invested in upholding the treaty as he is, so whatever happens, we’re gonna make this work. And besides—” Galo looks down at the envelope in his hand. “I _do_ really like Lio. I know the circumstances are...weird, but—this feels real to me.” He glances back up to find them both scrutinizing him. “I don’t know it that helps, but—”

“What’s in the package?” Gueira asks with a sharp nod.

“Oh—uh—” Galo squeezes the envelope with both hands, feeling the small box enclosed inside. “I—I know you guys do rings in your weddings, so I, uh—I asked a friend back home to help me make one.” He flashes them an apologetic smile. “I know I’m cutting it pretty close, but I wanted it to mean something, you know?”

They both stare at him.

“Uh—was I...not supposed to—?”

“No, that’s—” Meis sighs, raising a hand to rub at his temple.

“Okay!” Gueira perks up, hands on his hips, smiling crookedly. “Congratulations! You pass!”

Galo’s eyebrows shoot up. “What—”

“I’m still not sure about you, but—” Gueira punches Galo jovially in the arm, “—I’ll give you a chance!”

His head is spinning from the abrupt change in tone, but Galo grins back. “Thanks!”

“But if you ever do anything to make Lio unhappy, I’ll burn the skin off your bones!”

“Yeah! Got it!”

“For fuck’s sake,” Meis mutters, reaching over to hit the door open button. “Let’s not threaten the Parnassan royalty, okay?”

Gueira sticks his tongue out at Meis and darts out of the elevator as soon as the door slides open.

Galo laughs. “Well, I guess I’m glad it worked out!”

Meis smiles back. “Ignore Gueira. He’s probably embarrassed he read you so wrong. Let’s get along, Galo.”

“Yeah!” Happiness soars in Galo’s chest. “I’m looking forward to working with you both.”

The sound of the apartment door clicking open reaches them down the hall and after a second Gueira’s voice follows:

“Morning, boss! You’re up early. Oh—uh—let’s put the knives down—how about_ I_ make breakfast—whoa!”

Galo and Meis trade wide-eyed looks and race each other to the door.

* * *

The first time Lio got married, he wasn’t nervous.

Any anxiety he may have felt was melted by the fierce determination blazing in his chest. Any uncertainty was intentionally crushed under the heavy expectations of his people. Any apprehension was pushed aside by the unfaltering belief that his duty comes before all else.

So no, he wasn’t nervous. He didn’t let himself be nervous.

Now, though, pacing in the anteroom, listening to the music play on the other side of the door, waiting to walk down the aisle, the cage of Lio’s ribs is full of little fluttering wings.

He barely saw Galo this morning, forced to rush out to take care of some last-minute stuff at the Regency with little more than a drowsy kiss and a mumbled “See you at the altar,” but he trusts that Thyma and Aina managed to get him dressed and delivered on time. Personally, Lio would have preferred to have the ceremony outside, where he could feel the earth of Promare directly under his feet, or even at the Core research lab, where the energy of the Core hums in the very walls, but that would have been too complicated to arrange safely. The Regency is already equipped for political events and the main hall was easily configured to suit a wedding, risers added to seat the audience around the central dais. It’s not as large as the ballroom in Parnassus, but there are fewer guests. Gueira and Meis did a good job working everything out.

“Boss, if you walk any harder, they’ll be able to hear you,” Meis speaks up from where he’s waiting by the door, hands in his suit pockets, hair pulled back into a neat bun for the occasion. “Nervous?”

Lio doesn’t pause. “Yes,” he answers honestly.

Meis lifts an eyebrow. “That’s rare.”

“I’m as human as you are, Meis.”

“But you’ve already done this before, yeah?”

“That was—” Lio squeezes his right ring finger, worrying the pale skin right at the base. “Different. This means something else.”

Meis hums, pursing his lips. “I get it.”

“I know you do, Meis, but Gueira—”

“He gets it too.” Meis smiles, pushing away from the wall to step into Lio’s path, forcing him to a halt. “We’re happy for you, boss.”

Lio blinks up at him, familiar fondness shining through the tumult in his chest. “Meis….”

“The situation is unusual, but we’re all a team now. We’ve got your back, and Galo’s too.”

Before Lio can react to that, the door across the room swings open and Gueira rushes inside, talking quickly: “Okay, looks like everyone’s seated and Thyma just gave me the thumbs up, so it shouldn’t be much longer—” he breaks off, taking in the scene. “Uh—what’s up?”

Lio shakes his head, gesturing for Gueira to come closer. “Nothing, Gueira. You two did well arranging everything today.”

A lopsided smile makes its way onto Gueira’s face as he joins Lio and Meis by the door. “Just wait until the reception. That bakery you like is bringing—” he breaks off on a grunt as Meis nudges him in the ribs.

“That’s supposed to be a surprise,” Meis mutters.

“Don’t you get tired of hitting me?” Gueira whines.

Lio chuckles. “Thank you both,” he says earnestly. “For everything.” Reaching up, he pulls them both into a tight hug. They’ve never been overly physically affectionate, but today is special, and it’s the only thing that will satisfy the fierce love washing over him.

Meis places a steady hand on Lio’s back in response while Gueira instantly wraps both arms around him and clings, sniffling in Lio’s ear.

“I only got this far because of you,” Lio says softly. “Setting aside the wedding, setting aside Galo—we saved Promare. You believed in me when no one else would. And I could never thank you enough.”

“Boss,” Meis rasps.

“We’ll follow you forever, Lio,” Gueira chokes out.

“I will do my best to be worthy of your loyalty,” Lio states resolutely.

Gueira’s grip tightens and Meis lays his cheek on top of Lio’s head.

Outside the door, the music swells and Lio reluctantly pulls away, patting a teary-eyed Gueira on the arm and trading firm nods with Meis. Then the door is opening and Lio is stepping into the aisle.

Burnish weddings aren’t that different from Parnassan weddings. All soon-to-be spouses enter at the same time and meet in the middle on a raised dais and an officiator on the floor guides the proceedings. Lio’s heard that most Parnassan weddings have more people involved, bridesmaids and the like, but his and Galo’s first ceremony didn’t have anything like that, so Lio suspects both weddings will be about the same length.

The guests in attendance are mostly government officials and their families. Lio instantly catches sight of the Council members, grouped together and frowning in unison as he emerges, but the rest of the guests look varying shades of excited and relieved. The decorations are simple so as not to distract from the ceremony or the hall’s distinctive interior design, which features glass columns set in the walls that channel thin, flowing rivers of lava from Fennel Volcano. The lava, affected by direct contact with the Core, glows in shifting purples and blues, throwing hints of chromatic light around the whole room.

But Lio hardly notices any of that. All he can see is Galo, tall and bright, entering from the door opposite him and striding just a little too quickly down the aisle.

Unconsciously, Lio hurries his steps as well, so they mount the dais at the same time.

Galo beams down at him and Lio can only smile back helplessly as they join hands.

The vows are simple, professional, like they were back in Parnassus. Since this isn’t a love match, the words are more focused on unity and peace, and Lio almost wishes he’d been able to alter them, but the guests and the people watching through the cameras stationed in the corners of the room wouldn’t understand. They all view this as a political arrangement, and until Lio figures out how to transition their public image from business partners to real partners, it’s best not to do anything too shocking.

All Lio can do for now is hold Galo’s sparkling gaze, trying to convey with his eyes what he can’t with his words. When Galo squeezes his hands, Lio thinks he gets it.

Once they’ve both affirmed their devotion to peace and partnership, the officiator steps back with a wave. “Gentlemen, the rings.”

Taking a deep breath, Lio cradles Galo’s left hand in both of his, focusing on his ring finger. “Hold still,” he murmurs, glancing up. “And don’t freak out.”

Galo raises his eyebrows but his face is open, trusting, and Lio latches onto the intense affection that rises up inside him at the sight, letting the feeling spark through his veins, growing and compounding until it flares into his palms in a flash of violet fire.

The flame arcs up, swallowing all other light in the room, and Galo’s eyes widen, but he remains obediently still as the fire focuses into a thin beam and coils back on itself, falling back to their joined hands and winding smoothly in smaller and smaller circles until there’s a slender, dense ring of light spinning between them. With another kaleidoscopic flash, the ring contracts rapidly around Galo’s fourth finger, spinning faster and faster before finally solidifying, sending out one last burst of bright color that fades into little geometric embers floating around them.

Galo blinks. He stares down at his hand, expression dazed, and breathes, “Whoa.”

Lio keeps his expression neutral as the audience rustles appreciatively. Most ring exchanges are more understated than that, but Lio’s never been one to hold back. “Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing Galo’s hand.

He startles. “Right! I—uh—” He slips his free hand into his suit jacket and extracts a small band. “Obviously, I can’t—uh—do _that_, but—” When Galo takes his right hand, Lio can feel him trembling slightly. “Please let this fit,” Galo pleads under his breath before sliding the simple white band onto Lio’s ring finger. It settles right at the base, sitting comfortably snug against Lio’s skin.

Lio stares at it, feeling as dazed as Galo looked a minute ago. It’s made of a matte white metal that quickly warms to Lio’s elevated body temperature, and it appears plain at first glance, but as light glints off the surface, Lio realizes that the whole band is subtly faceted. He cuts his eyes to the dark ring encircling Galo’s finger and almost shakes his head in disbelief. Somehow, they managed to match.

The guests are whispering amongst themselves, and Lio clears his throat quietly, looking back up at Galo, who’s watching him nervously. “It’s beautiful,” he mouths.

Galo’s face softens with a smile.

The officiater steps forward again. “Now the grooms will share a kiss,” he says authoritatively.

Lio vividly remembers their first kiss, during the first ceremony, and the strange heat that glimmered to life inside him at the chaste touch. They’ve come a long way since then, and now, as Galo’s eyes light up with intention, that same heat blazes impossibly stronger.

As much as he wants to grab Galo by the hair and yank him into a hard, meaningful kiss, the eyes on them make that impossible. Nevertheless, when Galo leans down and brushes their lips together, Lio presses into it, breathing a flicker of the heat inside him into the contact.

Galo hums against his mouth, a short, low vibration that only Lio can hear, and it shudders down Lio’s spine, lingering even after Galo straightens up.

The audience erupts in applause, much more genuine than the reaction in Parnassus, but Lio barely hears them, all of his focus narrowed down to Galo’s firm grip on his hands and Galo’s molten blue gaze.

Galo grins and offers his arm. Unable to resist smiling back, Lio takes it, and, together, they step off the dais.

* * *

The reception this time is definitely more of a party than it was in Parnassus.

Galo tried to have a good time back then, despite the weirdness, and his team helped, but now he doesn’t have to make an effort. Everyone is obviously enjoying themselves, the food is amazing, the live music is energetic, and Lio is beside him, laughing and touching him the whole time, so it’s safe to say Galo is having a _great_ time.

The Burnish don’t have a first dance tradition but he and Lio take the first dance of the night anyway, swaying to the beat in the middle of the Regency lobby. Lio leads this time, his hand steady on Galo’s waist, smiling up at him and giggling when Galo stumbles on his feet.

“You’re being distracting,” Galo complains, righting himself.

“I’m not doing anything!” Lio protests

“You’re smiling at me,” Galo points out, voice low.

Lio’s cheeks go pink.

At some point, Aina and Thyma twirl past, completely ignoring them, and Galo exchanges thoughtful looks with Lio.

Lio dances with both of his lieutenants, who seem much more relaxed about the whole thing now, and once Thyma and Aina take a break, Galo allows himself to be dragged away from the food to embarrass himself on the dancefloor with each of them in turn.

Outside, the sun slowly sinks until the only illumination left in the lobby is the glowing lava in the walls and the lamps on the tables. The flow of the lava lends the light a shifting quality, playing off Lio’s fair skin and hair as they sit together at a table on the edge of the room. Galo is so distracted by the pseudo-underwater effect that he almost doesn’t notice Lio examining his new ring.

Galo swallows dryly. “It’s—uh—tungsten. With a reinforced carbon-carbon composite core.”

Lio flicks his eyes to Galo, head tilted. “Fire-resistant materials.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Galo reaches across the table and slides his hand under Lio’s, brushing his thumb over the ring. “I wanted something that you wouldn’t have to worry about melting. I mean, you can probably hit temperatures that would turn concrete to slush, but this will at least be a little hardier than gold or silver. Plus, it’s—” he hesitates, tapping his thumbnail against the hammered metal.

“It’s what?” Lio prompts.

“It’s...the metal came from my first firefighting mech.” Galo smiles sheepishly, remembering Lucia’s excited cooing when he brought up his plan to her. “When I first joined Burning Rescue, I designed and built my first mech. I modeled it after ancient Matoi firefighters and it was _so cool_—” he laughs. “You should have seen it, Lio. I’ve made improvements since then, me and Lucia both, and the old one isn’t in use anymore, but I—” tightening his grip on Lio’s hand, he meets Lio’s glittering eyes. “It was...it meant a lot to me. After years of being in Kray’s shadow, it was the first thing that really felt like _mine_ and I was so proud of it. And now—well, I—I just wanted to give you something that had a piece of me in it,” he finishes, throat tight.

Lio doesn’t respond at first, sitting rigidly in his chair and staring intently at Galo in silence.

“Uh—” Galo flounders,”—I know that it’s not as cool as your fire ring thing—” he waves his left hand, where the dark, gem-like ring winks prismatically in the light, “—which was amazing, by the way, and we can pick out something else if you don’t want to wear something from a firefighting mech—oh, and I didn’t use my Matoi tech at the border, that was—”

Lio pushes himself to his feet, cutting Galo off, and leans over the table before Galo can react. Bowing his head, Lio breathes directly in Galo’s ear: “Let’s go home.”

Galo sits up straight. “You...you sure?”

Pulling back enough to catch Galo’s gaze, Lio levels him with a look that’s impossible to misinterpret. “I’m sure.”

Heart pounding, Galo can only nod and stand on unsteady feet.

With a few words to Meis and a couple of unavoidable goodbyes with some folks that seem to be government officials, Galo and Lio are free to climb into the back of a car and share a breathless ride home, hands clasped on the seat between them.

(Galo catches Aina’s attention on the way out, and the eyeroll she sends him is all friendly teasing. He gives her a cheeky salute and she whips around to keep eating her cake.)

Lio’s flat is dim and quiet when they arrive. Galo left early enough this morning that the sun shining through the huge windows negated the need to turn any lights on, but now he flicks the switch for the foyer so that they can take their shoes off.

“I told the others I would contact them in the morning,” Lio says, voice hushed. “So we’ll be alone all night.”

Galo can only nod and trail Lio up the stairs like a lost puppy.

In Lio’s bedroom, Lio taps one of the minimalistic lamps by the bed and a gentle flood of light joins the glow of the city emitted by the tall windows. Galo watches, heart fluttering, as Lio shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair. He wants to say something, but any words that come to mind are quickly washed away by the rapid flow of blood in his veins.

“Your ring—” Lio starts, breaking the charged silence and glancing back at Galo, who’s still hovering by the door. “You were probably startled during the ceremony.”

“Oh—yeah, I mean—” Galo raises a hand to trace the band around his finger. “When I heard you guys exchanged rings, I didn’t think it meant..._that_, but I really shouldn’t have been shocked.” He huffs out a laugh. “Everything about Promare is intense. And it was….” Galo takes a breath, recalling the profound awe that lit him up when Lio’s fire surged around him. “Really cool.”

Lio paces toward him, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I would have warned you, but, honestly, I thought you’d enjoy the surprise.”

“I definitely did.” Galo lets Lio take his hand and watches raptly as Lio draws one pale fingertip over the dark ring. “Burnish culture is amazing. You guys really do that at every wedding?”

“It’s usually a little less flashy,” Lio admits. “But yes. The couple exchanges rings made of their fire. Once the flame is condensed and crystallized like this, it’s indestructible unless the person who made it reforms it.” He knits his eyebrows down at Galo’s hand. “You said my ring is a piece of you, and this—”

“Is _literally_ a piece of you,” Galo realizes softly.

Lio raises his eyes to Galo’s. The deep purple spears right through him. “It’s part of my flame. It’s connected to me. As long as I’m alive, this will protect you.”

Galo is loud and bright. He takes up space, he fills rooms with noise, spills his emotions into everything he does. He puts his feelings in his words, his hands, his face, sharing them with the world easily. That’s how he’s always been. He feels everything _so_ strongly but he’s never hesitated to lean into it, let it fill him up, confident that he can handle it, and he always has.

But now, for the first time, the feelings blazing inside him might be too big. He’s not sure where to put them.

He blinks hard, hand twitching in Lio’s grip, and takes a shuddering breath. “Lio, I—” his voice cracks, “—I’m really glad we’re married.”

A spark passes behind Lio’s eyes and jumps down Galo’s spine, and before he can say anything else, Galo’s being pulled into a hard kiss, arms around his neck, hands in his hair. He presses into it shamelessly, opening his mouth for Lio’s insistent tongue and grabbing Lio by the waist to yank him closer. The angle bends his spine but he doesn’t care, desperate to feel as much of Lio’s unique warmth as possible.

Lio moans, freeing one clutching hand from Galo’s hair in order to hook into the collar of Galo’s suit jacket and push, wordlessly demanding until Galo’s brain catches up enough to rip the thing off. It lands somewhere at their feet, already forgotten, and Galo responds by untucking Lio’s dress shirt, skating his hands up Lio’s bare back as soon as he has access. Lio shivers, nipping at Galo’s bottom lip and using his free hand to undo Galo’s belt with a surprisingly deft motion, but he gets caught on the loops and huffs against Galo’s mouth in frustration.

Smiling giddily, Galo grabs the belt and slides it completely off, dropping it carelessly before leaning back in to kiss Lio properly. He guides Lio’s arms around his neck again and bends down to get his hands under Lio’s thighs. When he straightens up, lifting Lio effortlessly, Lio doesn’t falter, humming into Galo’s mouth and locking his legs around Galo’s waist as though they’ve done this a million times.

The ease with which they move together, fall into each other, makes Galo’s heart sing.

It’s a few long steps to the bed, and Galo carefully crawls up the mattress, barely breaking contact, one arm wrapped securely around Lio’s back and the other braced over their heads to gently lower Lio onto the duvet. Lio frames his face with both hands, breathing in hard, and Galo lets his head be angled to deepen the kiss even further. His senses are consumed with Lio, the scorching heat of him under his hands, the clean, ashy scent of his skin, the subtle yet undeniably smoky taste of his mouth—every hitched gasp and choked whine from Lio’s throat rings in Galo’s ears, almost enough to drown out the thundering of his own heart—

“G—Galo—” Lio pants, yanking Galo’s shirt free of his pants. “There’s—in the closet—”

“Hm?” Galo can barely understand his words, focused completely on peppering kisses under Lio’s jaw, drawing a line down to his clavicle.

“Closet—top shelf—there’s a bag—”

Hazily realizing that Lio is asking for something, Galo reluctantly pushes himself up. The sight of Lio, splayed out and ruffled beneath him almost crushes his flash of lucidity, but he hangs onto it. “A bag? Something you need?”

“We need.” Despite his flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, Lio still summons unprecedented gravity as he gazes meaningfully up at Galo. “Stuff that...we need.”

Understanding kicks in like an electric shock and Galo scrambles off the bed, nearly running to the sliding closet door, fingers fumbling at his shirt buttons. He manages to get the shirt half open before he shoves the door aside. There’s an unassuming black shopping bag sitting on the very top shelf, and Galo can’t help thinking it looks kind of familiar—

Shaking his head, Galo reaches up and snags the bag. A quick glance inside confirms his assumptions and liquid heat drips into his stomach, creeping inexorably lower.

“Galo,” Lio says breathlessly, and Galo looks back to see that he’s wrestled his own shirt off, snowy skin nearly glowing in the lamplight, hair mussed and bleached a soft ivory as he sits up.

All of Galo’s breath leaves him in a rush.

Lio extends an imperious hand, palm up. “Come here.”

Galo can’t get to him fast enough. He takes Lio’s hand and lets Lio pull him back onto the bed. The world spins and suddenly he’s flat on his back with Lio braced over him, lips parted, staring down at him with hunger smoldering in his gaze.

The bag crinkles as it falls next to them and Galo cuts his eyes to it, then back to Lio, heart racing. “Ready to be an honest man, Regent Fotia?” he breathes, sliding his hands up Lio’s thighs.

Instead of responding to the jab, Lio leans down and seals their mouths together. The heat in Galo’s gut surges forward, tingling all the way to his fingertips, and he loops an arm around Lio, dragging him down onto his chest, burying his other hand in Lio’s hair, groaning into the kiss.

Lio rocks against him, sending fireworks off in Galo’s brain, rendering speech impossible.

All Galo can do is hold on and let the heat melt everything away.

* * *

Lio’s husband is loud.

He speaks loud, he moves loud, and he looks loud.

Even his heart, pounding steadily under Lio’s cheek, is loud. It echoes in Lio’s ears, beating a familiar rhythm directly into Lio’s bones, and Lio thinks he could listen to it forever.

A broad hand strokes gently up his back, fingertips tracing the curve of his shoulder blades before sweeping back down, trailing along the dips and rises of his spine, then it repeats, as constant and soothing as the heartbeat pulsing through them both.

Galo inhales and Lio feels the expansion of his ribs, lying half on top of Galo as he is. “When I first saw you,” Galo starts, voice deep and gravelly in a way that vibrates his whole chest and reverberates in Lio’s head, “I had a miniature panic attack because you looked twelve.”

Without opening his eyes, Lio pinches the skin right under Galo’s ribs.

“Ow—” Galo laughs hoarsely and grabs Lio’s hand, lacing their fingers together on his stomach. “But then, when I actually met you, I realized—this guy could absolutely destroy me.”

Lio hums sleepily. “You were right.”

“Yeah, I’ve got pretty good instincts.” Lio feels Galo turn his head and then there are lips on his crown, speaking directly into his hair: “I knew right away that you were it, Lio. I didn’t know I knew. But I did.”

Lio’s heart flutters into his throat and he has to swallow it to respond. “When I first met you, I thought you looked loud.”

Galo snorts. “You were right.”

“I know.” Finally, Lio pries his eyes open and lifts his head, rising up on his elbows to look down at Galo, who blinks at him bemusedly, smiling softly. His blue hair is an unruly mess against the pillows, eyes lightened to match by the early morning light. “You’re loud, Galo Thymos. You look like noise. And I tried not to think about you beyond that.”

Galo raises a hand and tucks a strand of Lio’s hair behind his ear, brushing the backs of his knuckles over Lio’s cheekbone. “But?”

“But you’re so loud, I couldn’t hear anything else.” Lio taps his fingertips over Galo’s chin, across the seam of his lips, scratching his nails against the slightest hint of stubble on Galo’s jaw. “You’re it, Galo. And you told me yourself.”

Galo takes a sharp breath, lips parting, and catches Lio’s wrist to press a hot, lingering kiss to his palm. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he murmurs, glancing at Lio from between Lio’s own fingers.

Lio swallows. “I just said the same thing you did.”

Galo smiles against Lio’s hand. “I guess you did.”

Before Lio can replace his hand with his mouth, his tablet chimes obnoxiously from its place on the bedside table and he sighs. “Hold that thought,” he instructs, drumming his fingers against Galo’s forehead.

Pouting, Galo releases him and Lio rolls over to retrieve the tablet from its charging dock. He thumbs it open, lying on his side, as Galo scoots up behind him and tangles their legs together under the duvet, mouthing at Lio’s shoulder. It’s distracting, but Lio manages to scroll into his new mail and click the most recent alert.

It’s from a protected sender, which automatically sets Lio’s teeth on edge, and contains nothing but an attachment and one line of text.

_Be careful._

Ice creeping into his veins, Lio taps the attachment.

As soon as it opens, Lio goes rigid and shoves himself upright, breaking away from Galo, scanning the documents frantically.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Galo sits up beside him, peering over his shoulder, voice instantly tight with anxiety. “Did something happen?”

Lio clenches his jaw, head spinning. “We have to leave.”

“What?”

When Lio looks over at Galo, his eyes are bright with concern, and Lio grips the tablet until his knuckles go white. “We have to go back to Promepolis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are all amazing and i live for your comments. i don't respond here on ao3 but if you interact with me over on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast) or [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) i almost always respond.
> 
> please don't expect another chapter this quickly! next chapter is gonna be a busy one and i predict it'll take me a while, plus i've got other projects. this one just flowed out of me and i hope you loved it as much as i loved writing it.
> 
> thank you so much and stay safe <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galo heads home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo it's been a while. as i mentioned, i was participating in the promare big burn until recently and that took a lot of my time, but i'm back to actively working on this fic! this chapter is a bit shorter than some of the others, but with the way events worked out, i hope you'll see why that is and i hope it's still enough to make up for the wait. thank you so much for all of the support and kind words so far. we're heading into the endgame, friends!
> 
> peep the tags if you haven't btw.
> 
> enjoy!

It takes a full day to get from Fennel to Promepolis with no stops.

The rail system isn’t even set up to do that yet, designed to layover and switch lines at Modoba and major cities in Parnassus, but Lio and Galo clear a train for personal use and arrange for a non-stop trip all the way back to the capital of Parnassus. They only disembark once to physically switch trains in Deus, but the whole thing goes so quickly and smoothly that by the time they arrive, the media still has no idea they even left Fennel.

“This isn’t really how I wanted to show you my station,” Galo chuckles awkwardly, guiding Lio down the alley leading to station 3’s back entrance. “But I left my bike here so Lucia could tinker with it while I was gone.”

Lio, jacket hood pulled up over his distinctive green hair, eyes the eclectic building with curiosity. “It’s more colorful than I expected, given the rest of the city.”

Galo puffs up proudly. “It’s the oldest station in Promepolis, so it’s got a lot more personality than the others. _Way _more fun than station seven.” He grimaces. “I did some training there and it’s like a clinic. How do you make huge, wall-scaling mechs boring?” He keys his code into the back door’s electronic lock and swings the door open for Lio.

Lio breezes past him, lowering his hood as he steps inside. “Are your teammates here?”

“There’s gotta be at least four people on duty at any time, so—”

“Galo!” Varys’s booming voice meets him as soon as he follows Lio into the rear garage, and the next thing he knows he’s being swept into a bone-crushing hug. “How you doing, kid?”

Galo laughs through his compressed lungs and slaps Varys on his broad back. “You just saw me a week ago!”

“Yeah, but you’ve got a nose for trouble!” Grinning broadly, Varys sets Galo back on his feet. “Is Aina with you?”

“She came along, but she decided to swing by her sister’s place first. She should be by later.”

Nodding, Varys turns to Lio. “Your highness,” he greets with a teasing bow.

Lio smiles up at him. “I’m glad to see you again so soon, Varys. I wish it was on happier business.”

“Speaking of—” another voice carries over and Galo looks up to see Ignis descending the stairs from his office, sunglasses firmly in place and face grim. “Are you kids going to elaborate on this secret visit? Or should we start guessing?”

Galo and Lio exchange glances. “What did Lucia tell you?” Galo asks.

“Just that you two were heading back and to keep it quiet.” Ignis comes to a stop in front of them and puts his hands on his hips, regarding them seriously. “Now, I don’t expect you to share state secrets with a lowly fire station captain, but if you’re in danger—”

“It’s not like that,” Galo assures him. Without thinking, he loops an arm around Lio’s shoulders. “We just needed to come back ahead of schedule to check on something and we didn’t want the press breathing down our necks.”

_“Listen, Galo,” Lio’s voice is hard as he levels Galo with a solemn look across the train compartment, “I know you trust your friends, but don’t tell them about the files. It might be dangerous if they know too much.”_

_Galo’s stomach clenches. “You’re really worried, huh?”_

_“I don’t want to take any chances.” Lio drums his fingers restlessly against the table between them. “I’ve...lost intelligence agents before. It’s okay if your friends know where we are, but keep the details between us, okay?”_

_“Alright, Lio.” Galo reaches over and places his hand over Lio’s. “Don’t be nervous,” he tries, going for encouraging. “We’re going to get this all sorted out.”_

_Lio twists his mouth to the side. “Right.”_

_“I’m serious—I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding,” he says for what has to be the thousandth time._

_“Galo—” Lio sighs. “I hope you’re right. And I hope you’re not lying to get my guard down to betray me later.”_

_Galo feels his jaw drop. “Lio, I—! Please believe me, I would never—” he breaks off at Lio’s arch expression._

_“I know, Galo.” Lio adjusts his hand in Galo’s to lace their fingers together. “I trust you. That’s why I showed you the files in the first place.”_

_“You’re such a bully,” Galo pouts._

_Lio smiles for the first time since he opened that email. “I’m sorry.”_

_"Well—” Galo grimaces. “I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you were suspicious of me. I am still the prince of Parnassus.”_

_“I know, but—” Lio’s eyes gleam in the sunlight, violet and deep, “—I just can’t bring myself to distrust you. After our first wedding, almost certainly, but now—” he tightens his grip. “What have you done to me, Galo Thymos?” he mutters._

_Galo feels his lips curl up. “I married you,” he answers. “And I cooked for you, and I slept in your bed, and I saved your life—” he pushes himself to his feet, leaning across the table between them, “—and I charmed your grouchy friends, and I kissed you, and I made you a ring, and I f—”_

_Lio surges up to meet him, catching Galo’s mouth with his own before he can say any more._

“Check on something?” Ignis repeats, unconvinced.

Galo flashes him a charming grin. “Yup! Is Lucia here?”

“Present!” Lucia’s cheerful voice echoes through the garage right before she bustles into sight around a heap of docked machinery, lab coat flapping. “I told you to text when you got close!” she admonishes, scuttling over for her own hug.

“Sorry, lots on my mind.” Galo squeezes her tightly.

“Alright, alright—” she pulls back and grabs at his hand. “Let’s see that _rock_.”

Galo proudly shows off his ring, flashing Lio a grin as Lucia coos over it.

“I saw the video of the wedding,” Lucia says excitedly. “First time a Burnish ceremony has been broadcast in Parnassus, actually, and it was so cool! Way more exciting than what we do here.” She turns to Lio. “Do you know exactly what causes the fire to crystallize like that? I mean, of course you do, but is it a quality inherent to Burnish flame? Is the stone structurally similar to any other material? It can be un-crystallized, right? Does it—”

“Uh, Lucia—” Galo cuts in, smiling at Lio’s wide-eyed expression, “—I’m sure Lio is super psyched to talk nerd with you, but we gotta wrap up our business first.”

She pouts. “At least let me see the fruits of my tireless labor.”

Glancing up at Galo, Lio presents his own ring, and Lucia examines it eagerly.

“Well, if anyone could make a dorky concept like this look good, I guess it’d be you, Regent,” she admits, grinning toothily.

Varys peeks curiously over Lio’s shoulder. “Oooh, nice. It was hard to see on the screen, but they make a nice pair, huh?”

Galo puffs up with pride. “We didn’t even plan it,” he boasts. “We’re just naturally in sync.”

“Yeah, yeah, dorks think alike, I guess,” Lucia mutters.

“Hey, don’t call my husband a dork!”

Lio smiles, reclaiming his hand to twist the ring around his finger. “It’s lovely, Lucia. Thank you.”

“Well—” she locks her hands behind her head, looking pleased. “I guess if it’s to smooth international relations, I don’t mind a little hard work.”

“Yes, you saved our marriage,” Lio agrees, a little too sincerely.

“Alright, alright,” Galo reinserts himself. “Gossip later. Lucia, is my bike rideable?”

“Who do you think I am? An amatuer?” Lucia gestures for them to follow her. “It’s back here. I just did some cosmetic work.”

As they pass, Galo can feel Ignis’s eyes following them assessingly from behind his sunglasses. Swallowing, Galo ushers Lio in front of him.

“So where you headed?” Lucia asks, rounding Galo’s bike when they reach her personal maintenance bay. “Secret date?”

Galo hurries up to his baby, eagerly running his hands over the console. “Something like that.” He snags his helmet and jams it over his hair. “She looks great, Lucia! Thanks!”

“Of course she looks great, but don’t salivate too hard. Your husband is watching.”

“It’s fine,” Lio sighs. “I know I’ll always be second to heavy machinery.”

The urge to lean down and kiss Lio on the cheek is almost overwhelming, but Galo settles for sticking one of Aina’s spare helmets in his green head. “My bike and I have an agreement,” he assures. “She doesn’t mind.”

Lio raises his eyebrows.

Galo swings one leg over the bike seat and boots it up. It purrs to life between his legs and he beams. He’s really missed riding his bike. Getting carted around everywhere like a celebrity can be nice, especially when it means he gets to spend as much time as possible with Lio, but nothing beats the rumble of his customized motorcycle as he speeds through the city. “Okay,” he says, patting the saddle behind him. “Hop on, firebug.”

Lucia makes a strangled groaning noise, but Galo ignores her, too distracted by the way Lio’s cheeks flush. He snaps his helmet into place and mounts the bike behind Galo. “Please don’t ever say that again.”

“Why not?” Galo laughs. “It’s cute!”

Lio doesn’t refute him beyond a light pinch to his side so Galo laughs again and revs his engine.

“Make sure to swing by again when you’re done,” Lucia orders, hands on her hips. “We can order food or something before you have to go back to Promare.”

“Looking forward to it!” With a backward wave, Galo lets the bike shoot forward and peels out of the bay.

Lio grabs him around the waist, a searing outline against his back.

_“Gueira, Meis, and I will run damage control here,” Thyma says, crossed leg bouncing nervously across from them in the limo. “If we play it right, you should have a few days before anyone realizes you’re gone. I’ll let you know if something goes wrong.”_

_“We should only need a few days,” Galo insists, glancing at Lio beside him. “We’ll get this cleared up and be back as soon as possible.”_

_Lio keeps his lips pressed together, gazing blankly out the window as they near the train station._

_Thyma’s phone buzzes and she checks it quickly. “Looks like Aina’s done with the travel arrangements. The rest of the security team will have to stay here, so you two watch yourselves, especially when you switch trains.” She taps at her screen. “Lio, I’m sending you the details.”_

_Lio hums in acknowledgment and Thyma leans across the car to pat him on the knee._

_“I’m sure it’s going to be okay,” she tells him._

_When Lio nods tightly, Thyma cuts her eyes to Galo._

_“Yeah,” Galo agrees swiftly. “It’s gonna be fine.We’ll be back in a few days and your lieutenants will be grilling me on what we did while we were alone, and then we’ll go to all those boring meetings you guys keep talking about.”_

_Lio finally looks away from the window, regarding them both shrewdly. “This level of delicacy really isn’t necessary.”_

_“Then stop acting like you’re about to shatter,” Thyma says sternly. _

_“I’m not—” he blows out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, Thyma. I’m sure you two are right.”_

_The car glides to a stop and Galo looks out to see Aina waiting by the walkway. “Alright,” he says, tugging his own hood up and reaching for Lio’s. “Let’s go.”_

_Lio allows Galo to pull his hood over his head and grasps Thyma’s hand once in farewell._

It’s near sunset, the sky just starting to turn orange above the city, and the streets aren’t overly crowded, so Galo makes good time. He remembers that Lio mentioned he had experience with motorcycles and he doesn’t doubt it. Lio shifts his weight and leans into turns like a veteran, easily adjusting to Galo’s riding style, and having Lio pressed up behind him is making Galo inordinately giddy.

After this is all dealt with, they should go riding together for real. Up to the huge lake in the woods outside the city, one of Galo’s favorite spots. Or they could head beyond that, to the actual beach. They can make a day of it. The thought of Lio holding onto him as they cruise alongside the glittering ocean, salty air rushing past them, the sun beaming down on the uninterrupted miles of coastal road—just the image makes Galo’s heart swoop.

All too soon, their journey comes to an end, and Galo slows as he guides the bike into the Parliament building’s underground garage. His spot is unoccupied, of course, and he rumbles to a halt. Powering the bike down, he lets Lio dismount and swings off after him.

“How do you know King Foresight is even here?” Lio asks, removing his helmet and hanging it on Galo’s handlebar.

“He’s always here,” Galo responds, doing the same and shaking his messy hair out. “He has a place in the city, but he usually stays in his apartment upstairs anyway.”

“Here—” Lio beckons and Galo leans down obediently, letting Lio comb efficient fingers through his hair, setting it back in order.

“Thanks,” he grins. As Lio lowers his hands, Galo catches one with his own and brings it to his mouth, kissing Lio’s knuckles just to watch him blush. “Let’s go.”

“Galo Thymos, I swear—”

Galo laughs, the sound ringing in the enclosed, concrete space, and tugs Lio toward the elevator. “Come on!”

The lobby is empty and the receptionist merely waves them through with a curious eyebrow lift. In the main elevator, Galo keys in the special code that will take them right to Kray’s office floor without stopping for other requests, then adds in the rapid ascent combination. The building is so absurdly tall that an elevator going normal speed takes nearly half an hour to get to the top and Galo doesn’t wanna wait that long.

Beside him, Lio watches the numbers on the screen climb quickly as the car hums around them.

“So,” Galo starts, drawing Lio’s attention. “I’m not sure when we’ll be back here _and_ have free time, but when it happens, I was thinking we could go out on the bike for a day.” He scratches his cheek. “It might be kinda hard to arrange, security-wise, but I think it’d be fun. I know this super cool spot up in the woods, and if we kept going, we’d hit the coast in a few hours. Maybe we could stay the night.”

Lio twists his mouth to the side, eyebrows drawn together. “Galo—”

“I mean, obviously if you don’t want to, that’s cool,” Galo interrupts before he can stop himself. “I don’t know how the Burnish feel about the sea—oh shit, was that insensitive or something? I know you guys aren’t, like, made of fire, or whatever, but—”

“Galo,” Lio cuts him off with an eye roll. “It’s not that. It sounds nice, but I don’t know—” he bites his lip. “We’re not exactly a normal couple.”

Galo sags. “Yeah, I know, but I thought—I dunno. If we could swing it, I thought it’d be nice to get away with you.”

A hand on his arm draws Galo’s gaze to Lio’s glittering purple eyes. “It would be,” he confesses. “I do like the idea of going...away with you, for a little while, at least. Our honeymoon hasn’t really been much of a honeymoon,” he frowns, “and it would be nice to be together outside of everything else. I just don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Then we’ll have to make it possible!” Galo insists eagerly, capturing Lio’s hand and holding it in both of his. “We’ll figure it out, Lio! We’ll wear disguises if we have to! Sneak out after dark!”

Lio grimaces. “I think Gueira would have a heart attack. But, you’re right—” his face softens with a smile. “If you really want to, we can make it happen.”

“Of course I really want to!” Happiness bubbles in Galo’s chest and he can’t help but rock on the balls of his feet. “Hell yeah! This is gonna be so fun!”

“Don’t get excited yet,” Lio protests, but he’s smiling, swaying slightly as Galo’s bouncing reverberates up his arm. “Nothing’s for sure!”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m still super happy.” In any other situation, Galo would wrap Lio up in a hug, but he restrains himself for now, settling for sharing a soft look with Lio as the elevator glides to a stop. “I’ll make sure to show you a _really_ good time, Regent Fotia,” he winks.

Even though his cheeks are undeniably pink, Lio squeezes Galo’s hand back and looks up at him through his eyelashes. “I hope you can keep up with me, Prince Thymos.”

The doors slide open and Lio strolls out, leaving Galo flushed and wide-eyed in the elevator.

Kray’s office is a wonder of modern architecture. The whole cantilevered Parliament building is a marvel on its own, but Kray’s office, floating alone at the top of the whole thing, is especially striking. Galo vividly remembers the lurch of dizziness he felt the first few times he came up here, mere instinct when faced with the entire city laid out below him, sky and ground stretching as far as the eye can see through the room’s soaring windows. Now, when Kray’s voice admits them entry and Galo pushes the tall door open, he’s met with the stunning sight of Promepolis at dusk.

Orange and pink streak the sky around them, reflecting vibrantly in the twin decorative pools lining the office. At the end of the long walkway, Kray is seated at his wide, stark desk, typing on a holoscreen. The greenish light reflects on his face as he looks up and visibly startles.

“Galo—” he stands smoothly, holoscreen winking out. “What are—” he breaks off as Galo moves aside to let Lio in. “And Regent Fotia.” Kray sounds as perplexed as Galo’s ever heard him, quiet voice echoing in the spacious room.

“Hey, Kray,” Galo greets, leading Lio down the walkway. “Sorry for the sudden visit.”

“Sudden indeed.” Kray regards them curiously as they approach. “I had no idea you were coming.”

“Yeah, well, we kinda snuck out,” Galo chuckles.

Kray folds his hands in front of him. “And why did you do that?”

_“We have to talk to Kray about this,” Galo asserts, gesturing to the tablet lying on the bed._

_Lio barely pauses, pulling on a pair of jeans and rifling in his dresser for a shirt. “Galo, we have to go back to the capital, but I don’t know if—”_

_“Lio, I swear, this has gotta be some sort of misunderstanding.” Galo yanks his own shirt over his head, shaking his hair out. “Kray would never condone something like this—”_

_“Galo—”_

_“I’m serious!” Galo catches Lio’s arm, ducking down to make Lio face him. “I know him. Whatever’s going on here, there’s no way he’s involved.”_

_“How could he not know?” Lio demands. “He’s the king, isn’t he?”_

_“Yeah, but—”_

_“And commander of the Parnassan military!”_

_“Lio, I swear—” Galo takes Lio by both shoulders. The bare skin is scorching under his hands. “Kray is as committed to peace as we are. If those files are legitimate, he had nothing to do with them.”_

_Lio clenches his jaw and says nothing._

_“Wasn’t he as dedicated to working out the treaty as you were?” Galo continues. “I remember how long it took him to even convince Parliament that stopping the war came first. After King Prometh died, they wanted to escalate, but Kray wouldn’t let them!”_

_At the mention of the former king, Lio’s eyes narrow._

_“Lio, trust me,” Galo pleads. “We just need to talk to Kray. That will clear all of this up.”_

_Lio looks conflicted, eyes darting between the tablet on the bed and Galo’s face. “Galo….”_

_“I’ve got your back.” Galo squeezes Lio’s shoulders. “So trust me, alright?”_

_After a long moment of silence, Lio releases a heavy breath, meeting Galo’s determined gaze. “Alright. Let’s go talk to Kray.”_

_Galo frames Lio’s face with both hands and bows to kiss him on the forehead. “We’ll get this sorted out, I promise.”_

“Needed to talk to you.” Galo gestures at Lio. “It’s kinda serious.”

“Oh dear.” Kray’s brows knit as Lio steps forward and pulls his tablet out of his hoodie pocket.

“What is the meaning of this, King Foresight?” Lio asks, thumbing the tablet on and sliding it across the desk.

Kray lowers himself back into his chair and accepts the device, peering down at it. Galo watches him scan the screen, heart pounding in his chest. Beside him, Lio is rigid, taught like a bowstring. After a second, Kray’s eyes narrow and he puts a hand to his chin, reading intently. Galo knows too well what’s putting that troubled expression in his face.

Schematics. Dry notes and explanations alongside detailed diagrams of advanced anti-Burnish weaponry and armor. When Lio shoved the tablet at him that morning, Galo could barely believe what he was looking at. The first document that greeted him was titled _Absolute Zero Handheld Range v.2.1._ And just a glance sent chills down his spine. He has some experience with developing and building weapons, and it was obvious to him how dangerous these were. Sleeker and more deadly than the existing anti-Burnish tech. But the worst part was the date in the corner of every document. Every single one was updated sometime last week, well past when the treaty called for a halt to all anti-Burnish technology research and production. Someone in the military is still developing illegal weapons, likely more than one person given the scope of the documents in the files. And that can’t be allowed to continue.

“This—” Kray starts, shaking his head. “This is—I don’t know what to say.”

“This is a clear violation of article two of the treaty,” Lio points out firmly. “A transgression like this could nullify the whole arrangement.”

“How did you get these?” Kray asks, looking up.

“That’s not important,” Galo insists. Whoever sent the files took steps to conceal their identity. Lio was careful as well, saving the documents in multiple password-protected places and deleting the original email.

“Were you aware of this?” Lio demands.

“Regent, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this.”

“Answer me, King Foresight.”

Kray sighs. “If you’re worried that I’m advancing anti-Burnish weapons research, of course the answer is no.” He sets the tablet on the desk with a soft _clack_. “It’s possible these were in development before the treaty and there’s been a clerical error.”

Tentative relief flickers in Galo’s chest, but Lio is still stony beside him.

“It is concerning, however,” Kray goes on, standing again. “To alleviate these concerns, why don’t we go chat with the head of military R&D? He should still be downstairs.”

“Yeah!” Galo agrees quickly. “I’m sure that’ll clear everything up, right, Lio?”

Lio glances up at him. “Right,” he says tightly.

Kray rounds his desk and sets off at a clip down the walkway. Galo lets Lio go ahead of him.

“The motives behind whoever sent you such materials must be called into question as well,” Kray says over his shoulder. “It’s possible they meant to make you paranoid.”

“Or warn me,” Lio mutters.

Kray hums, turning his head as though looking at something in the upper corner of the room. “Unfortunately for you, you didn’t listen.”

Galo furrows his brows. “What—” Before he can finish, Kray whips around, something flashing in his hand, and the office erupts with the distinctive sound of a gun discharging.

In front of him, Lio jolts, staggers, and Galo lunges forward on instinct, but then a wall of searing heat and light slams into him, sending him flying backwards. He splashes down hard in one of the shallow pools and rolls with the momentum, blinded by water and the violent sunspots flashing across his vision. As soon as the world stops spinning, Galo shoves himself onto his hands and knees, gasping through the agony constricting his chest.

“Galo—!”

At Lio’s terrified scream, Galo drags his head up, squinting past the pain and sparks.

The room is glowing, sunset colors replaced with jumping purple and black shadows, flickering and leaping in arcs away from—

“Kray—?” the name falls from Galo’s stunned lips.

Lio is wrenching frantically at the large, white-gloved hand fisted in his hair, and as Galo watches, he illuminates with furious magenta flames, then cries out as the translucent spike embedded in his chest pulses and spreads with a slick cracking sound. His fire stutters out and his legs buckle, only held up by Kray’s grip. Kray’s other arm, his prosthetic, is raised, emanating the dark fire now rippling across the floor.

“Kray, what the hell are you doing?” Galo shouts, stumbling to his feet. “Let him go!”

“This is fairly inconvenient for me, you know,” Kray starts serenely, as though he’s still speaking to them over his desk, “I don’t quite have everything in place yet.”

“What—”

“But I should have expected that you’d ruin my plans _again_, Galo.” Kray regards him with a disgusted sneer and Galo can’t understand what’s happening. His eyes are seeing the horrorshow playing out in front of him but it doesn’t make _sense_—

“Traitor!” Lio yells, fighting to get his feet back under him, clawing at Kray’s wrist. “You—you’re Burnish! All this time—!”

Kray yanks his head back roughly, ripping a cry from his throat, and Galo jolts forward, arm outstretched.

“Stop—!”

“Oh, Galo,” Kray sighs. “When I arranged this sham marriage, I didn’t expect you to actually fall for this puppet. I’m disappointed, but unsurprised, I suppose. You’ve always been hopelessly sentimental.”

“Kray, what are you doing?” Galo demands hoarsely, wide eyes fixed on the ice wrapping around Lio’s chest, creeping up his neck as he struggles. “What kind of sick joke—”

“I really don’t have time to explain everything to you.” Kray raises his flaming arm, aims at Galo. “Just know that you’ve outlived your usefulness. Thank you for your service to Parnassus.”

The fire swirling around his arm intensifies and Galo dives to the side just as the blast rockets past him. The sound of shattering glass fills the air as Galo hits the walkway and rolls, landing in a kneel.

“Galo!” Lio summons his flames again, but the ice seizes him harder, snuffing the prismatic light with a choked shriek.

Galo stares around frantically for any way out of this. He has no weapons, no time to reach for his phone, and whatever Kray shot Lio with is fucking with his Burnish abilities—he meets Lio’s desperate violet eyes for a split second before another bolt of fire consumes his vision and punches him backwards.

Galo feels himself crash into the rigid plane of Kray’s desk, the whole thing cracking apart as he hits it, and he gasps. Rolling onto his front in the debris, he coughs harshly, pain radiating out from his burning chest. He can barely support himself, but Lio’s frantic voice forces him up, facing Kray where he still stands at the other end of the walkway.

“Let him go, Kray—” he yells, voice hitching. “I’ll do whatever you want, so just—”

“How stupid can you get?” Kray snaps. “All I need from you is your death!”

Lio twists violently in Kray’s grip, swinging one foot up and catching Kray square in the gut. Kray hisses, fire flickering, and turns enraged eyes on him. “Filthy little—!” Dropping to one knee, he slams Lio against the ground, using his grip on Lio’s hair to grind his face into the floor. “Don’t make me kill you too!”

“Lio!” Galo starts forward, but Kray whips his head up, flames surging rapidly, and before Galo can take two steps, a massive flare of shifting light is barrelling toward him and all sound vanishes in the deafening roar. Unable to dodge on shaking legs, Galo takes the blast directly to the chest, nerves erupting in agony.

“Galo! No—!”

Distantly, he feels himself smash through something—the muffled impression of shattering glass, but he can’t see, vision consumed by blistering heat—then he’s flying, wind tearing past him, dizzying weightlessness swelling through him until he can’t tell left from right, up from—

Lio’s screams follow him all the way down.

* * *

Lio watches Galo vanish into the Promepolis skyline through eyes swimming with tears.

“No—” he rasps, staring blankly at the jagged hole in the huge window at the other end of the office. “No—no—! Galo! No!”

Above him, Kray swears under his breath, tightening his grip on Lio’s hair. “God _damn_ it, I let that little shit provoke me too much.”

Lio claws at the floor, desperately trying to push himself upright even as ice drives deeper through his veins. Again, his fire surges forward, licking at the sides of his vision, sparks and smoke curling out of his gasping mouth, trying to sear away the frigid agony, but the ice pulses stronger, snuffing the flames mercilessly.

“Stop struggling against it,” Kray snarls, yanking him to his knees. “You’ll only die faster, and I need you alive for a little while longer.”

Lio screams wordlessly, the tears pouring from his eyes evaporating on contact with his skin, grabbing Kray’s wrist and scratching viciously.

“For fuck’s sake—” Kray drags Lio up to face him and Lio meets his irritated expression with bared teeth. “You’re both _hopeless_—you realize this was all fake, right? All of this rage is pointless.”

“You planned this all along!” Lio spits. “The treaty—the wedding—it was all for this!”

“Very astute, Regent.” Kray stands, pulling Lio with him until Lio’s feet are barely touching the ground. “But it goes back even further than that. Why would I go through all the trouble of adopting Galo when he was nearly an adult?”

Horror twists sickly in Lio’s gut. “Even Galo—even—”

“I’ve been laying the groundwork for this plan long before you took your position, long before my predecessor got it into his feeble mind that the war needed to end.” Kray scoffs in disgust. “As if I was going to let his cowardice ruin everything I worked to build.”

Lio eyes widen. “King Prometh—”

“He was easily dealt with,” Kray continues breezily. “Then when I heard about the young upstart campaigning in Promare, I finally had a use for Galo.” His upper lip lifts in a sneer. “Keeping him around was risky, but my instincts told me he might come in handy someday. And I was right. I always knew he’d have to die eventually, but this level of drama is truly—” he breaks off, shaking his head. “You two just can’t make things easy for me, can you?”

A numb, nauseating heat crawls up Lio’s throat. “You—” he chokes out, “—you raised him for this. Just to kill him.” He drags in a ragged breath, feeling it catch all the way down, kindling and stuttering. “Like a lamb to slaughter.”

“A good ruler makes use of all his resources. I know you know that, Regent.” Turning away from Lio, Kray pulls his phone from his pocket and taps at it quickly. The arm that used to be swirling with Burnish flame is back to normal, sleeve still intact. “Biar,” he says into the device. “There’s been a mishap. I need units mobilized to locate Galo’s body. He should be somewhere to the south, but I don’t know how far—”

Lio’s hearing fuzzes out, heat roaring in his ears, and his vision flickers. His fire, dampened by the ice bleeding through him, roils suddenly, lashing out with instinctive intensity, and Lio feels more than sees Kray falter. The grip on his hair loosens.

“You—” the word is a hiss of steam, streaming from between clenched teeth, “—monster.”

“What the—”

Even as the ice spears deeper, the rage pushes back until every inch of him is glowing with incandescent fury. Consumed by blazing light, Lio feels his mouth fall open and a geyser of blinding heat spills from between his lips, fire ripping out of his core in a desperate, devastating wave.

The world vanishes around him, eaten away by stabbing, searing grief.

_“Hey—” _

_The gentle thumb sweeping over his cheekbone convinces Lio to blink his eyes open to the sight of Galo’s concerned expression hovering over him, dyed gold in the lamplight._

_“You okay?”_

_“Yes,” Lio says breathlessly._

_“You sure?”_

_Leveling Galo with an impatient look, Lio shifts intentionally, and they both groan at the sensation. _

_“Alright, I got it,” Galo says huskily, wrapping his hands around Lio’s waist. “Just making sure.”_

_“I appreciate your concern—” Lio lays his own hands on Galo’s shoulders, trailing over the broad muscles. “But I’m really not going to snap in half.”_

_Galo chuckles low in his chest, leaning down gingerly, and Lio lets his arms slide around Galo’s neck as Galo noses at the flushed skin under his jaw. “I want this to be good for both of us,” he murmurs._

_“Did I indicate I was having a bad time?”_

_“No, but there’s nothing wrong with taking care of my husband.”_

_Lio hums, carding his fingers through Galo’s hair and savoring the very different heat simmering inside him. “So the foolhardy firefighting prince of Parnassus is a gentle lover.”_

_Galo pulls back enough to grin down at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Only the best for you, babe.”_

_“Maybe I don’t want gentle.”_

_“Well, in that case—” Galo leans forward again, brushing his lips against Lio’s and grinding his hips in a way that makes Lio’s toes curl. “Just trust me, Lio,” he whispers. “I got you.”_

_Moaning, Lio drags Galo into a fierce kiss, locking his legs around Galo’s waist. Galo presses him harder against the mattress, panting into Lio’s open mouth, and frees one hand to cradle Lio’s face. If Lio focuses, he can feel the band of Galo’s wedding ring, pulsing with heat as it responds to the emotional surge of its source._

_“I’m here.” Galo taps their foreheads together. “You can let go.”_

With Galo’s words ringing in his head, Lio surrenders to the cataclysm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha. yeah.
> 
> if you haven't already, check out my big burn fic, [The Myth of Mankind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334228). it's complete and pretty long so hopefully it can ease the wait for the next chapter.
> 
> lmk what you think here or on one of my social medias: [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/), [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast)
> 
> stay alert, stay kind, and stay safe.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! it's been a little while, huh. people who read my other works will know i've been indulging in some...kinky distractions, but i'm constantly working on this fic, don't worry. my wips are my top priorities, i'm just an unforgivably slow writer. thank you all so much for your support so far! i was so tickled by everyone's reactions to the last chapter and i hope this can make up for the wait a little! enjoy!

“How are you doing, Galo?”

“Oh, you know—” Galo shrugs helplessly. “Fine.”

Kray smiles, sympathy shining in his eyes. “I figured as much.” He places his fork down on his plate with a muted _clink_. “I want to apologize.”

Galo freezes with a bite of potato halfway to his mouth. “What? Why?”

Sighing heavily, Kray steeples his hands in front of himself. “I know I haven’t been as present during this whole process as I could have been. A normal parent, when their child gets married, should play a more active role than I have.”

“Nah, come on—” Galo quickly sets his fork down as well. “It’s not like we’ve ever been _normal_—” he laughs. “Regular parents don’t usually arrange their kids’ marriages these days. We’re not really playing by the same rules.”

“Regardless, I feel my support has been lacking.”

“No way!” Galo insists. “You’ve been great! It’s not about—like, driving me to appointments and stuff it’s more—” he scratches his cheek, “—just, being there. Like, I know you’re there if I need something. I just haven’t really needed anything.”

“I am relieved to hear you say that, Galo.” Kray lowers his hands to the table. “Admittedly, I’ve been worried you might feel I was selling you off. The media certainly thinks so.”

Galo rolls his eyes. “I made the decision to accept the terms. All those articles are spinning things way out of proportion.”

“You’re handling this very maturely.”

“Hey, I’m always mature!” Galo objects.

Kray quirks an eyebrow.

“Well—” Galo leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the table. “I can be mature when I have to.”

“No one would fault you for having doubts about this arrangement. It’s a big, very personal commitment.”

Galo sighs. “I really don’t mind. It’s cool that I get to help the country out like this. Compared to what others have done—” he presses his lips together. “I’m really not doing much. It’s not like I’m sacrificing my life.”

Kray’s chair creaks as he shifts his weight. “I know this may seem a little rich, since the wedding is in two days, but I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet—” he fixes Galo with a steady look, “—what do you think of your fiancé?”

“Lio?” Galo sits up, images of pale green hair and slender gloved hands flashing through his head. “He’s—uh—he’s really something.”

Kray nods sagely. “I agree.”

“I mean—I still don’t know him super well, but what I’ve seen so far—” Galo lets his gaze drift to the dining room’s huge window, gazing absently out at the sprawling evening skyline. “I think he’s really cool. Smart and dedicated to his country—” a smile softens the corners of his mouth. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know him.”

Humming, Kray turns his head to observe the view as well. “Make sure you do. Regent Fotia is very important to our plans for the future. As are you, of course.”

Galo huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah I got it.”

A glint of light on the horizon draws his eyes. He squints out the window as the bright speck glimmers again, intensifies, and sweeps across the geometric outline of the city against the sunset.

“What is—”

“This union will be the beginning of a new era for Parnassus,” Kray continues blithely. “Thanks to you and Regent Fotia, we’ll be able to reach new heights of greatness.”

The light glares over the skyline again and Galo winces, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. “What _is_ that? What’s happening?”

“So, truly—” Kray’s voice dips and warbles, like a radio losing signal, and the light spreads suddenly, eclipsing the orange sky— “Thank you for your service, Galo.”

“—Galo! Hey, can you—”

“Ugh—” A sharp pain throbs behind Galo’s eyes and the light flickers, expanding until the view out the window is nothing but blinding white— “Stop—I can’t—”

“Hey! Look at me! Galo—”

Galo squeezes his eyes shut just as the dining room dissolves under the force of the light, Kray’s half-remembered words staticking into a steady, ringing buzz, and the pain in his head doubles, triples, piercing all the way through him—

“Galo!”

Sucking in a ragged gasp, Galo blinks his eyes open and immediately hisses when the light sweeps over his vision again. “Ah—!”

“Sorry—I need to check your pupil dilation—your vitals have been all over the place—”

A cool hand lands on his forehead and Galo blearily allows whoever’s speaking to him to hold his eyes open and shine a small beam of light into each in turn. “What’s—going on—” he slurs.

The light disappears with a click and Galo finds himself squinting at Heris Ardebit’s ashen face. Almost instantly, Aina shoves into view, all wide eyes and babbling— “Galo! Can you hear us? How do you feel?”

“Aina, calm down, I still have to—”

“Aina? Heris?” Despite the pain searing through his muscles, Galo struggles to sit up. “What are you doing here? Where—” he glances around, hazily taking in what looks like some sort of medical bay. “Where am I?”

Hands on his shoulders push him back down and he grits his teeth against the resulting flare of agony. “Don’t move—I’m still trying to make sure you’re not dying,” Heris says briskly, reaching for a panel mounted over the headboard of the bed he’s lying on and tapping at it. “By all rights, you should be less than ash by now.”

“Wha—” Galo looks between them, at the grim set of Heris’s jaw and Aina’s nervous expression, “—what happened? What—” a thrill of panic spears through him. “Lio! Where’s Lio?”

Aina darts a tight look at Heris.

“Where is he?” Galo levers himself up again, ignoring Heris’s “Hey!”, and grabs Aina’s arm. “Aina, please—where is he? I need—”

“He’s not here, he’s—” Aina bites her lip. “We—we’re not sure where he is right now, but—”

A cold wave swoops through Galo’s chest. “I have to go find him—”

“Galo, you can’t—”

“Kray attacked us!” Galo shouts hoarsely, dragging his legs over the side of the bed. “He shot Lio with some sort of ice weapon—he—he blasted me out the window—”

“It’s okay, Galo, please stay down—”

“Lio could be hurt! Or—or worse—!”

“Galo!” Aina runs over his frantic babbling, grabbing his face in both hands and forcing him to meet her eyes. “Calm down and listen!”

Heart hammering, Galo drags in a deep breath, willing his scattered brain to settle. “What happened?” he asks once his pulse has stopped roaring in his ears.

Aina’s grip gentles until she’s cradling his jaw and she darts a look behind him at Heris. “It’s not good, Galo. Things are...really bad. And you’re in a lot of danger.”

“Lio?” Galo begs.

She presses her lips together. “He’s...he’s still alive.”

Her tone vaporizes any relief Galo may have felt at her words. “What’s going on? Tell me everything.” He casts another look around at the unfamiliar med bay. “That last thing I remember, I was getting shot out of the Parliament building, and now—”

“This is a secret lab left to me by King Prometh.” Heris paces around the bed to stand beside her sister. “It’s underwater and completely undetectable.” She reaches for the cuff fastened around Galo’s elbow and adjusts some of the sensors knocked askew in Galo’s struggling. “It’s probably the only place in or around Promepolis that Kray won’t find us.”

“Galo—” Aina starts seriously, dropping her hands to his shoulders. “This will probably be hard to hear, but please listen without interrupting, okay?”

Dread roils in Galo’s gut, cold sweat pricking at his hairline, but he nods hesitantly and Aina takes a deep breath.

“Earlier today, the Parliament building was attacked by a giant Burnish flare.”

Galo’s stomach drops but he keeps his mouth shut.

“The city went into lockdown but the news footage—it was really bad. Freeze Force was called in and they...contained it.” She swallows. “The king put out an emergency bulletin that claimed Lio had killed you and attacked the building when Kray tried to defend himself.”

“What?” Galo glances between Heris and Aina. “That’s insane! That’s _not_ what happened—”

“We know—” Aina says quickly. “I mean—we know that’s not the truth—no one knows exactly what _did_ happen in the Parliament building, but all people _do_ know is that you and Lio suddenly left Promare without telling anyone, dropped off the radar, and suddenly—the city is under attack and you’re being reported dead—” she tugs fretfully on the end of her ponytail. “It doesn’t look good.”

The dread in Galo’s stomach curdles into nausea and Galo has to swallow it down, throat clicking dryly. “This—this is all my fault—” he presses a hand to his forehead. “I’m the one who insisted we go to Kray—if I hadn’t….”

“Galo, what’s really going on? Why did we leave Promare so suddenly?”

“Before that—” Heris thrusts a bottle of water in front of Galo. “Drink. It looks like your internal body temp is finally low enough not to boil the water.”

Mindlessly, Galo obeys. His head is spinning, trying to connect his last memories with what Aina is telling him. It’s not until he lowers the bottle that he registers Heris’s words. “Wait, my internal temp? What do you mean?”

“You explain first,” Aina orders, herding him backwards to lean against the angled bed. “What happened? You made us leave so suddenly, why—”

“It was the documents, wasn’t it?” Heris asks grimly.

Galo stares at her. “_You_ sent those?”

She nods, brows furrowed. “I never expected you to just come charging back here, though! I thought—”

“Wait, documents?” Aina interrupts. “What documents?”

“Yesterday, or, no—” Galo casts his memory back, the past few days bleeding together, unhelped by the huge, burning gap in his recall, “—two days ago? The morning after the ceremony—Lio got an email from an unknown account, and inside were all of these files of anti-Burnish weapon schematics. New stuff, stuff that had been updated since the treaty was signed—” Galo thumps his head back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “I convinced Lio to talk to Kray about it. I was so sure there was an explanation, but—this is all my fault—”

“You sent those files, Heris?” Aina asks. “You knew about the weapons, or whatever Kray was up to?”

“I did.” Heris sounds stricken. “I’ll tell you everything, but first, Galo—what happened next?”

“After we picked up my bike at the station—” Galo continues, not looking away from the ceiling, “—we went to the Parliament building. Kray was in his office and when we showed him the files, he seemed...shocked. He was—it was all an act. All of it.” Galo raises a hand to tangle in his hair, tugging until it hurts. “He—he said he would take us to speak to someone and we started to leave the office—then—”

“You were attacked?” Aina guesses.

“It was Kray—” Galo drags his head up, “—he’s Burnish.”

Aina gasps and Heris’s eyes go wide behind her glasses.

“I don’t know how or—or why—” Galo’s voice cracks, “—but he is. He—he shot Lio with something that really hurt him and—everything happened so fast, I had no idea what was going on—”

“That explains the video,” Aina whispers.

“Video?”

“The security footage from the king’s office—they’ve been showing it on TV as proof that Lio killed you—” Aina pulls her phone out of her pocket, tapping at it. “Here—”

Numbly, Galo takes the phone in his hands and stares at the screen as a video starts to play.

It’s a soundless, high angle shot of the king’s long, austere office, clearly captured from one of the tall corners of the room over the door, and Galo can make out the surprisingly high-resolution figures of himself, Lio, and Kray as Kray leads them down the walkway. His heart lodges in his throat at the sight of Lio’s small form and he follows it until all three of them walk out of the bottom of the frame. For a second, there’s nothing, then a bright, sudden streak of light washes out the image and when it clears, Galo sees himself struggling upright in the ornamental pond. From there, he watches the scene play out just as he remembers it, nausea gripping him at the recollection of those few terrifying moments. The lack of sound means he can’t hear himself screaming frantically for Lio, and the quality still isn’t high enough to make out Kray’s name on his lips, so it just looks like he’s getting beat to shit by Burnish flares. And the only Burnish that people would know about in the room with him is—

When he sees himself smash through the window and disappear, he grits his teeth against the instinctive fury rising inside him. “He knew—Kray knew _exactly _what to do to make it look like Lio did this—”

“It’s framed so perfectly—” Aina takes her phone back with a frown, “—anyone watching would assume the fire came from Lio. Even we weren’t sure what happened, but you’re saying Kray is Burnish?”

Galo nods, jaw tight.

“Oh my god,” Heris mutters. “This is—this terrible—”

“How did I get here?” Galo asks. “Why aren’t I—dead? Or ash?”

Aina sinks onto the bed beside him while Heris removes her glasses to rub at her eyes. “When—when I got to Heris’s place and said you were back in the city, she got really anxious—”

“I was worried the documents had made you do something stupid,” Heris cuts in, replacing her glasses. “I only sent them as a warning, but Aina said you were going to the Parliament building and—”

“She started driving there right away, made me come with her—she wouldn’t say why—but while we were on the way, we saw—” Aina gestures helplessly at her phone, “—fire shooting out of the top of the building. It—you flew for blocks, and you finally crashed down in central park. We followed you—Heris was just sure something terrible had happened—and when we got there, the whole area was burning and you were at the center of it and—!”

“You were on fire. All of the trees around you were burnt to nothing, but you were—” Heris shakes her head, “—still alive. Somehow. And when we got close, the fire disappeared. We could barely touch you without burning ourselves—your body temperature must have been over two hundred degrees—”

“—but we managed to drag you to the car and we had to book it because a Freeze Force chopper was incoming—”

“Whoa—hang on—” Galo stares at them, head spinning. “I was on fire? And I fell all the way down?”

“What did you think happened?” Aina asks.

“I dunno! I thought, since I’m still in one piece, something must have stopped me, or—” A flash of heat stings up his arm and he winces, gaze dropping to his left hand and catching on the dark band of his wedding ring. As he stares, the crystal glitters, flickering deep inside, and the outline fuzzes at the edges for a split-second before solidifying again. “Lio’s ring—” he breathes, grabbing his left hand with his right, “—this must have protected me.”

“How?”

“Lio told me—this is still his fire, and as long as he’s alive—he said it would protect me—” The rings shivers again and another bolt of heat stabs through him. Galo grits his teeth. “Wherever he is, he’s in pain. I have to find him.”

“We don’t know where he is.” Aina worries at the hem of her shirt. “After we grabbed you, the news started reporting that the Parliament building was under attack by a massive Burnish flare. We lost the thread for a little while because we were trying to get out of the city, but the radio said Freeze Force was on the scene and by the time we could check again, everyone was saying Lio was apprehended for all of it—attacking you and Kray and trying to destroy the Parliament building—and you were being reported dead, and—” she darts a look at Heris, who crosses her arms, glancing away.

“What?” Galo asks. “What happened next?”

“Things went quiet until about an hour ago,” Aina continues reluctantly. “Right after sunrise...the king gave an address stating that the treaty was void and conflict with Promare would be re-established.”

“What about Lio? Did he say anything about him?”

“He said—” Aina bites her bottom lip, “—he said that Lio was plotting this from the beginning. And he said Lio was going to be executed for assassinating you.”

Not every fire in Promepolis is enough to warrant a mech, so Galo has some experience with being suddenly crushed by hundreds of pounds of burning wood and warped metal. He’s been knocked flat by explosive backdrafts and buried under collapsing buildings with nothing to protect him but his standard gear and a level head. He likes to think he knows how to handle the unexpected, and yet Aina’s words upend the world in a wholly familiar, newly sickening way.

Reeling, Galo feels all of his breath leave him in a rush.

“But we’re not going to let that happen!” Aina insists fiercely.

“What...what did he say?” Galo’s tongue is too big for his mouth, clumsy and slurring. “Exactly? When?”

“Soon,” Heris says grimly. “He wants the Regent’s death to serve as the first strike of the renewed war, but this is all happening ahead of schedule. The plan was to use the execution to demonstrate one of the army’s new anti-Burnish weapons, but you forced his hand before it was complete and now he’s scrambling to get everything in order.”

“How long until he figures it out?” Galo rasps.

“It was almost ready for testing, so not long. He’ll throw everything into overdrive now that Lio’s in custody. Maybe—” she winces, “—a day. A day and half, if something goes wrong.”

“Shit, that’s _nothing_—” Galo swings his legs over the edge of the bed again. Every inch of his skin stings in protest, but he’s not charred and his head is finally starting to clear out the haze of pain so he can_ think_.

“Galo, you shouldn’t—”

“I can’t just lie here,” Galo cuts Aina off. “We have to _do_ something—”

“Of course we do, but what—”

Galo snaps his attention to Heris. “Does Kray still think you’re on his side?”

She wrings her hands in front of herself. “I’ve been out of contact with him since this all started. I don’t think anyone saw us grab you—our names haven’t been mentioned in any of the bulletins—but he’ll be suspicious if I show back up suddenly—”

“You can say it was me!” Aina takes her sister’s arm. “Tell him you were with me when the city went on lock-down and I wouldn’t let you leave! He knows I’m one of Galo’s bodyguards, he might buy that I panicked or something!”

“That—that could work—”

“You need to get back to Kray and stall,” Galo says, pushing himself stiffly to his feet. Aina reaches for him and he accepts the arm wrapped around his waist for stability. “Don’t do anything that will get you hurt, but we need all the time we can get.”

Heris gnaws on her lip, hands fluttering anxiously. “Maybe—maybe I can bog the system if I turn on all of the automatic safety checks—”

“Sure, just do whatever you can to buy time.” Braced against Aina’s shoulder, Galo checks his footing. His legs are shaky but at least he can support weight. “What kind of weapon are we dealing with, exactly?”

“Well, it’s less a weapon and more—” Heris draws a round shape in the air between them, “—a chamber that utilizes brand new Burnish power-draining technology. The current tech, like the Absolute Zero models, relies on extreme cold to overtax a Burnish’s power until it can’t outburn the ice, but this device can suck the fire right out of their bodies so quickly they can’t replenish from the Core before they turn to ash.” She averts her eyes from Galo’s horrified expression. “At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work. We’ve never seen it fully operational. Kray was experimenting with POWs before the treaty forced their release. He has even more plans, about how to contain the drained energy and convert into a power source for Parnassus’s own military, and I’ve even seen notes about the Promare core itself.”

“Is that why Kray wants to restart the war?” Aina asks. “He wants to get to the Core?”

“I don’t know for sure. He doesn’t actually tell me everything. I figured out a lot of his plans from blueprints and experiments I was told to run. I sent Lio the schematics because I wanted to warn him, like King Prometh used to—”

“Wait—” Galo lurches forward, away from Aina’s grip. “King Prometh? He was in contact with Lio?”

Heris nods, jaw tight. “When King Prometh tried to get Parliament to end the war, he was basically stripped of all ruling authority and unable to get anything officially passed. He was worried what might happen if he was replaced, so he played along—he built this lab to keep his research and plans safe—and started passing information to the Burnish units on the border. He connected with Regent Fotia when he was still a soldier, and, using his intel, Lio was able to become successful enough to run for Regent and force Parliament to concede to peace talks. But—as you know—” Heris wraps her arms around herself, “—Prometh died before Lio took office, and that left—”

“Don’t tell me—” Aina gasps, “—Kray killed King Prometh and stole the throne?”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense—it’s too much of a coincidence otherwise!” Heris paces a few steps away, further into the room. “I think King Prometh knew something was going to happen to him. I wasn’t head scientist yet—I was still new, and I was surprised when he took an interest in me. He said he wanted to mentor me, and after he died, he left a lot of his notes to me. They just seemed like his usual experiment notes so I guess Kray didn’t bother checking them, but I realized some of the writing was in code, and—” she gestures broadly at their surroundings, “—it led me here. King Prometh left everything he knew in the lab’s computer, but I’ve been too scared to do anything until now.” She clasps her hands together. “But—meeting Lio, and seeing how relieved everyone was at the end of the war—I had to do something—but I messed up! I didn’t do enough! And now—” Groaning, she slips her hands behind her glasses lenses and presses against her eyes. “Everything is falling apart.”

“No!” Galo shouts, taking another unsteady stride. “We can’t give up! You were right to try to warn us, but we were all misled and used by Kray. Now, we have to stop his plans, no matter what!” He casts a look at Aina, catching her shining eyes. “We can still fix this. We can save Lio and stop the war, but we have to act quickly.”

“Right.” Aina steps forward resolutely. “We don’t have time to waste. Heris, you go back to Kray. We need someone on the inside right now.”

Lowering her hands, Heris takes a deep breath and nods sharply. “What are you two going to do?”

“Bust in and save Lio!” Galo responds instantly.

“Cool it—” Aina digs her elbow into Galo’s side and Galo winces. “As nice as that would be, it’s too dangerous—”

“But—!”

“—to go alone.” Aina raises her eyebrows meaningfully. “We’re gonna need the others.”

An understanding smile spreads across Galo’s face. “Some souped-up firefighting mechs probably wouldn’t hurt either.”

“If you’re talking about your Burning Rescue squad—” Heris pipes up, “—they’re almost certainly under surveillance. The whole city is looking for you, Galo. No body means Kray can’t be sure you’re dead and he won’t want to take any chances.”

“We’ll deal with that when we get there,” Aina says quickly, taking Galo’s arm and starting to tug him toward the door at one end of the room. “Whatever the case is, we’ll _need_ Lucia if we’re breaking into a government building.”

“Hell yeah.” Galo matches her pace, growing steadier with each step, and Heris falls in behind them as they hurry out of the medical bay and into a long, dim hallway. “Let’s do this.”

The former king’s secret underwater lab is surprisingly well-outfitted with tech and supplies. When Heris passes over a handful of discreet ear pieces and explains that they’ll use them to keep in contact, Galo wonders what exactly King Prometh was planning before he got killed.

His questions only raise in number as Heris hands them both sleek laser pistols with a muttered “Just in case.”

After preparing as much as possible, Heris takes them to a large hangar where all sorts of different vehicles are sitting dormant. The huge room features wide, overarching skylights that look up into murky, shifting water, and Galo shakes off the instinctive thrill of nerves that comes with the first real confirmation that they’re deep underwater.

“I’ll try to locate Lio and keep you updated,” Heris says, speed-walking to what must be her car. “You two be careful.”

“We will,” Aina promises, pulling Galo toward a rack of modernistic motorbikes. “You too, Heris! Be safe!”

She casts them a determined look over her shoulder before nodding and climbing into her car. After a second, the car revs to life and peels out of the hangar, up a long, enclosed ramp, and Galo quickly loses sight of it.

“There’s an above-ground exit point at the end of the ramp,” Aina explains, tossing Galo a helmet. “Are you good to drive or do you need to ride with me?”

Galo takes a quick inventory. He still feels shaky and strange, a restless current buzzing right under his skin, and his jeans and t-shirt are singed at the edges, but his head is clear and the gaping, anxious hole in his chest is sealed over with resolve. “I’m good,” he responds, swinging his leg over the closest bike and jamming the helmet over his head. “Let’s go.”

“Try to take it at least a little easy.” Aina follows suit on a bike of her own. “You’ve been through a fuck ton in the last few hours—you really shouldn’t be alive right now at all—”

As Galo guns his engine, the ring on his left hand throbs weakly, a faint contraction around his finger that sends heat flickering up his arm. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I know. That’s why we’ve gotta move.”

Aina cranks her bike to life and, together, they race out of the hangar.

* * *

_“—internal integrity won’t withstand any more—”_

_“—without additional tests! We still don’t know—”_

_“—this timeframe, your highness, there’s simply—”_

_“Dr. Ardebit finally called, she’s—”_

_“—fuck! It’s buckling! Initiate emergency containment procedures!”_

_“I’ve never seen readings like this before! Shit—!”_

_“No—!”_

* * *

The revelation that King Prometh’s secret lab was under Galo’s favorite getaway in the woods is almost enough to distract him from the fear gripping his mind as he and Aina navigate the empty, sunlit streets of Promepolis.

“The city is supposed to be on lockdown—” Aina’s voice crackles through Galo’s earpiece. “I bet all communication is being monitored too. Kray really doesn’t want to take any chances.”

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t been able to contact Thyma or anyone in Promare?” Galo asks, leading Aina around a sharp turn.

“Heris didn’t think it would be safe.”

“Fuck, they’re probably freaking out.”

“If we can get to Lucia, she might be able to help us reach them without being detected.” Aina pushes ahead on the long straightaway leading to station three. “Follow me around to the alley.”

Galo does so and they bring the bikes to a stop in the alley that runs adjacent to the barrack building attached to the station. No one jumps out to attack them, but a quick peek around the corner at the front of the buildings reveals that all of the garage doors are firmly shut and Galo can’t see any lights shining in the windows of the barracks or the station itself.

“Could they be at home?” Aina whispers, huddling with Galo beside the dumpster.

“Lucia told me and Lio to come back to the station after we were done,” Galo replies quietly. “When everything went down, they would have been here. And Remi and Ignis live in the barracks—where would they go?”

Aina twists her mouth unhappily. Galo edges toward the corner and peers into the alley that runs behind the two connected buildings. It’s deserted, like the rest of the streets.

“Maybe they—”

A sudden click precedes the station’s back door, the same one he led Lio through earlier, swinging open, and Galo whips his head back around the corner, gesturing frantically for Aina to hush.

“See? There’s nothing out here,” an unfamiliar male voice says, accompanied by two sets of muffled footfalls.

Galo meets Aina’s wide eyes and they both freeze, straining to listen as another man responds: “I swear I heard a motorcycle go past.”

“Maybe you did. Probably just someone going home.”

“Don’t the Burnish use motorcycles? I heard they could make vehicles out of fire.”

“Taz, half of the city owns a motorcycle. You’re being paranoid. Let’s go back in before the short one bites Sarge again.”

The footsteps fade away amid some unintelligible grumbling and Galo relaxes as the sound of the door closing reaches them around the corner.

“They’re definitely being held inside.” Aina swears hoarsely. “_Shit_—we have no idea how many guards there are—”

“Yeah, but we know at least some of them aren’t in mech armor,” Galo says quickly. “I didn’t hear any metal when those two guys were walking around—I bet it’s just a plain clothes unit that got called to keep an eye out for me in case I showed up.”

“They’re probably still armed,” Aina insists.

Galo pats the pistol on his hip. “So are we.”

“Two laser pistols against a unit of armed goons. Great odds.” Aina pops her knuckles thoughtfully. “And anything we do will have to be fast—if any of them manage to send a message that you’re here, we’ll be sunk.”

“No problem—I’m great at sneak attacks.”

Aina rubs her temple. “Yeah, this is gonna go great.”

“Okay—” Galo darts another look around the corner to confirm that the alley is still empty before turning back to Aina. “When I was here earlier, Lucia, Ignis, and Varys were on duty. Even if one of the reserve members was filling in and Remi was off, he was probably in his dorm. I’m willing to bet those guards have everyone rounded up in the station to keep an eye on them—”

“So the barracks are probably empty—” Aina finishes his thought quietly. “We could get in through the connected vents! Or—I could.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Galo, you’re not exactly built to fit inside of...anything.”

Galo opens his mouth to argue, but an image of the station’s industrial vent system floats across his brain and he huffs in grudging acceptance. “So what am I supposed to do?” he asks heatedly. “I can’t just wait out here.”

Pinching her brows together, Aina thinks for a beat. “How about—you wait by the back door. I’ll sneak through the vents until I get to wherever everyone is, then on my signal, we both bust in. If we’re fast enough, we might be able to keep them from communicating with the rest of Freeze Force. They won’t be expecting someone to come from inside the building.”

A rush of excitement swoops through Galo and he fights to keep from bouncing on his toes. Despite the dire circumstances, the promise of action is like a narcotic hit. “Sounds good—see if you can figure out how many guys there are and where they’re positioned in the building. We’ll take them out so fast, they won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“Simmer down, big guy—first, I need to get into the barracks.”

After checking the alley again, Galo creeps to the back door of the barracks and crouches beside it, coiled like a spring for whatever might happen. Quickly, he peeks through the window, scanning the kitchen in a split-second, before jerking back.

“All clear,” he breathes, flashing a look at Aina.

She nods and tiptoes around him, pulling her keycard from her pocket.

Galo keeps his eyes on the station’s rear exit as Aina slides her card into the lock and they both tense as the door releases with a soft chime. When no one comes running out to shoot them, Aina carefully inches the door open.

“Keep quiet,” she mouths, stepping over the threshold and tapping her ear. “I’ll contact you.”

Nodding, Galo watches her vanish into the kitchen before slowly easing the door shut behind her.

Keeping his steps light, Galo edges further down the alley to the station’s back entrance and presses his back to the wall, alert for any sign of movement inside or out.

A few tense, silent moments pass before his earpiece comes to life with a hushed exhale: “I’m in the vent,” Aina whispers, barely loud enough for Galo to hear. “I’m moving alongside the main bay—I can hear talking...at least three different male voices.”

“Can you see them?” Galo mutters.

“Heading for a grate right now—”

Galo’s heart pounds forcefully in his chest as he listens to the muffled sounds of Aina crawling through the vent.

“Okay—” she continues after a beat, “—you were right. Lucia, Ignis, Varys, and Remi are here, along with Circe—they’re being kept on the central platform but it doesn’t look like they’re restrained—”

Galo nods, painting the picture in his mind.

“—there are four men—wait—” Aina cuts off, going dead for a few seconds, and Galo stiffens. “—five, one just came out of the back. Two of them have their weapons out, but they’re not acting defensive. I can see the other three’s on their hips.”

“Watch for a minute—see if any more show up.” Planning an infiltration with Aina like this hits uncomfortably close to their time on the border, but Galo shakes off the memories and listens intently to Aina’s quiet breathing over the com.

“No one else seems to be coming,” she says at length. “And it doesn’t look like they’re communicating with anyone outside of the room. I think it’s now or never.”

“Okay.” Galo reaches for the pinpad. “I’m gonna come in and sneak through the garage. I’ll attack on your signal.”

“Roger that.”

Fortunately, the back door doesn’t beep when Galo keys his code in; it simply unlocks with a faint _click_ and Galo creeps inside.

The main area of the station’s first floor features a raised center where on-duty team members can wait for calls. The surrounding garage is pretty sprawling, a result of the station’s multiple remodels, and it’s easy for Galo to sneak around the dormant machinery and parked trucks as he approaches where the others are being held.

Once he can hear voices, he pauses, back pressed to the side of a busted transport box, and draws his pistol. The platform is right on the other side, and the sound of footsteps and disgruntled voices reaches his ears:

“—been any word yet?”

“The commander said to hold position until he contacts us—”

“It’s been hours!”

“Take it up with him!”

“Yeah, like I’ve got a death wish—”

Frowning, Galo taps his earpiece. “I’m in position,” he breathes.

“Okay,” Aina hums back. “One on the platform, two on your end, two on mine. Get ready—”

Galo inhales deeply, shoving all of the emotion twisting around his lungs to the side, and steadies his hands around the grip of the pistol.

“Now!”

A loud metallic _clang_ accompanies Aina’s command and Galo whips out of cover, pistol raised and trained instantly on the closest unfamiliar face.

“What—!” The guy tries to raise his weapon but a shot from Galo’s pistol knocks it right out of his hands, then another shot to his leg has him on the floor with a yelp. He fumbles with something on his collar and Galo charges over, snatching the small communicator before the guy can say anything.

A heavy stomp grabs Galo’s attention and he jerks to the side, narrowly dodging a blast from the next guy. Sighting rapidly, Galo fires a round into the guard’s weapon and the sleek metal gun erupts in fire.

Cursing, the dude flings it away, too distracted to react to Galo rushing him until it’s too late. Galo slams the guy into the floor and seizes his communicator as well, rising and planting one foot on his chest, pistol poised threateningly as he looks frantically around.

“Galo!” Lucia’s voice cheers.

Up on the platform, Galo can see Varys restraining another guard while Remi snatches his communicator, and across the room, under the busted grate on the wall, Aina is punching a guy to the ground as Circe vaults off the platform to help.

“Nice to see you, son,” Ignis calls, running over with a handful of heavy-duty cable ties. He aims a kick at the first guy Galo took down, sending him back to the floor just as he was starting to rally. “Knew that news report was bullshit.”

Galo beams, stepping back to allow Ignis to bind the guard he’s stepping on. “A lot’s happened.”

“I’ll bet.” Ignis passes him a few ties. “Tell us after we’ve got these fellas taken care of.”

After glancing over and confirming that the others have the rest of the unit handled, Galo heads over and snaps the cable ties roughly around the first guy’s wrists and ankles. He’s groaning, curled around his knee, where Galo can see a singed hole in his pant leg. “I had the power down,” Galo tells him, hauling him up by one arm. “It’ll sting, but you’ll be fine.”

“They told us you died—” he grunts. “What’s going on?”

“Behave, and maybe you’ll find out.”

Galo and Ignis dump their captives on the central platform alongside the one Varys took out and Lucia leaps on Galo right away, wrapping spindly limbs around him and babbling in his ear as Remi and Circe drag the other two guards to join their friends.

“—told everyone you were dead and we saw the video and central park is all burnt up and then these assholes showed up and said we were being held for suspicion of _conspiracy _but I knew it all had to be a lie because there’s no way Lio would ever do something like that but—”

Galo lets out a strained laugh, squeezing Lucia back with one arm and bumping Varys’s fist with the other. “Takes more than a little fire and a hundred-something story fall to take me down.”

“The video on the news makes a pretty good case otherwise,” Remi deadpans, submitting to his own fistbump. “But here you are. How’d you pull that one off?”

“We’ll tell you everything,” Aina huffs, dusting her hands off and flipping her ponytail to the side. “But first, let’s make sure none of these goons can contact their boss.”

Letting Lucia down, Galo passes her the communicators he took and she darts over to Aina for the others.

“Looks like you guys took them down in time,” she says, scampering over to her station. “I’ll put a dampening field over the whole station just in case.”

“If Commander Vulcan tries to contact us and can’t get through, he’ll know something’s wrong!” one of the bound guys pipes up.

One of his buddies nudges him, hissing: “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you think something weird is going on?” the first guy snaps back. “They told us Prince Galo was dead!”

“And as you can clearly see—” Galo gestures broadly to his very not-dead body, “—that’s an exaggeration.”

“I’ll set up a web to catch anything going in or out,” Lucia compromises, tapping away at her keyboard. “That way, nothing can get through without my permission.”

“Galo,” Varys starts seriously. “Where’s Lio?”

Galo’s face falls and he shares a grim look with Aina. “We’re not sure yet. But he’s alive.” Holstering his pistol, Galo twists his ring as it gives another weak pulse. “The situation is...it’s not good, guys. Like, really not good.”

“You saw the news.” Aina cocks one hip, arms crossed. “We’re talking _war_ here. We came because we need help, but this isn’t something we can come back from if we fuck up.”

“You trying to give us an out?” Ignis asks gruffly. “I’m insulted, Aina.”

“Yeah, like we’re just gonna sit back and let you two muddle through this on your own.” Remi rolls his eyes.

“I just want to make sure you all know the stakes.” But Aina’s smiling, and her grin grows as Varys claps her on the back and Circe punches her lightly in the arm.

“We’re a team,” Ignis asserts, laying a hand on Galo’s shoulder, mustache turned up. “No one in my station is going into a fire without backup.”

Galo’s throat tightens. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Though this crazy political stuff isn’t our usual wheelhouse,” Circe, a sturdy, dark-skinned woman from station three’s reserve rotation, points out.

“Yeah, but we’re not gonna be debating or any of that crap—” Varys cracks his knuckles. “Just fucking shit up.”

“Right.” Galo scans the room. “This is a rescue mission. And that’s what we’re best at.”

“Hell yeah!” Lucia shouts while the others all nod resolutely.

“What exactly happened, Galo?” Ignis asks. “Obviously everything on the news was a total lie.”

“Strap in,” Aina warns. “It’s a bit of a ride.”

While Galo and Aina fill the team in on the whole nightmarish sequence of events, Circe and Remi frisk their captives and confiscate the rest of their weapons and all of their cellphones. Lucia rolls her chair over and listens with wide eyes as Vinny creeps out of hiding and tries to nest in Galo’s hair.

“So we’ve gotta figure out where Lio is, rescue him, and reveal the truth, before the Parnassan military opens fire on the border?” Varys summarizes when Galo stops.

Galo, slumped on the cot, fishes Vinny out of his hair and passes him to Lucia. “Basically.”

“And no word from Heris yet?” Lucia asks, letting the rat settle on her shoulder.

“No.” Aina taps her earpiece. “Keep an eye on your communication net so we don’t miss her. We can’t move until she finds Lio.”

“Got it.”

“Hang on—” Remi lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “So you really _were_ blasted out of the Parliament building? How are you still alive?”

Despite the situation, Galo can’t help puffing up with pride. “My husband loves me.”

“What?”

“It’s Burnish stuff—” Aina waves a hand. “We have other things to focus on. Lucia—” she takes the back of Lucia’s chair and starts rolling her back over to her station, “—we need you to connect us to our friends in Promare. Heris said any communication out of the country was probably being stopped; can you get us through?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lucia flashes her a sharp smile. “Give me a number and five minutes.”

As she starts typing with Aina leaning over her shoulder, Varys claps a warm hand on Galo’s back.

“Really is good to see you not dead, kid.”

“Aw, come on, you didn’t really think something like that could take me out, did you?”

“Any normal person _would_ be dead,” Remi insists. “That video is brutal. I can’t believe the king would attack his own son like that.”

“Trust me, I couldn’t believe it either,” Galo mutters darkly.

“And why’s the king so determined to restart war with Promare if he’s Burnish?” Varys wonders. “He’s one of them.”

Recalling Heris’s limited information about Kray’s plans, Galo presses his lips together. “It might...have something to do with the Promare Core. But I’m not sure.” He strokes his thumb over his ring, clenching his jaw. “And I don’t think I’ll remember to ask the next time I see him.”

“We’re gonna get your little monarch back, son,” Ignis rumbles. “Then we’ll have all the time in the world to interrogate Kray.”

“Hey, Lio is an elected official!” Galo straightens up, fondness swelling in his chest and soothing the cloying fear still coiled there. “And—thanks, guys. I’d be lost without you all.”

“Damn straight!” Varys laughs as Remi adjusts his glasses smugly.

“I’m through!” Lucia calls just as a holoscreen unfolds above her keyboard with a faint electronic whine.

Galo leaps to his feet and dashes over, grabbing the back of her chair and pushing his face close to the screen as jumbled noise crackles through the speakers and the image swings around disorientingly.

“Aina!” Thyma’s strained voice separates from the cacophony. “Aina, is that you?” The video stabilizes somewhat, coming to rest on Thyma’s stricken face and her eyes widen with recognition. “Galo!”

“Thyma!” Galo could cry from relief, leaning back at Aina’s urging to let her into frame. “You’re okay!”

“_I’m_ okay?” she shrieks. “You—you’re dead! What’s going—” she breaks off as an arm shoots into view and the video jostles.

“Prince Galo?” Gueira’s shocked voice comes through the speakers before his spiky head shoves into frame beside Thyma. “You’re alive!”

“I am!” Galo agrees excitedly. “Is Meis there?”

“Here—” a slightly more sedate voice responds and the video jostles again, finally coming to rest on a shot of Meis, clearly holding the tablet in front of himself, with Thyma and Gueira on either side, staring at the screen. “Good to see you, Galo.”

“You too.” A surge of relief makes its way into Galo’s gut at the sight of all of them together and unharmed. “Sorry we couldn’t chat sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it. I imagine you’ve been pretty busy.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Expression sobering, Galo holds his left hand up, displaying his ring. “Lio is alive. We don’t know where he is, but we’re gonna get him back.”

Thyma presses her hand over her heart and Gueira sags, elbows braced on his knees as he hangs his head. “Thank fuck,” he hisses. “All the messages we’re getting say he’s going to be executed but we didn’t have any proof it hadn’t happened already.”

“What happened, Galo?” Meis asks somberly, brows drawn together. “All communication in and out of Parnassus is being blocked but we’ve been receiving the same broadcast over and over—”

“They’re saying Lio killed you—” Thyma cuts in, “—and that he’s going to be executed! And that the treaty is void!”

“We’ve had reports that Parnassan troops are gathering at the border,” Gueira adds. “And after you two left so suddenly—what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s a long story,” Aina says. “To keep it brief, Kray is Burnish and he attacked Galo and captured Lio and he’s planning to use Lio’s execution as the first strike of a new war with Promare.”

Meis and Thyma blink as Gueira grits his teeth furiously.

“That lying bastard!” he seethes. “I always knew he was up to something! Slimy, traitorous motherfucker—”

“Why did you two leave?” Meis asks sharply.

“We got a tip about some of Kray’s plans.” Galo clenches his fists. “I convinced Lio to go talk to Kray about it. I fucked up—” he raises his head, leveling the screen with a determined look. “But I’m going to fix this. I’m going to get him back.”

Thyma swipes quickly under her eyes. “We should be there—helping—” she wrings her hands, “—but all travel is shut down. There were Burnish trains over the border when Parnassus locked up and we can’t get any information about the passengers, or any Promare citizens who were already there. I’m—we fear the worst.”

Galo curses vehemently and Aina bites her lip. “Lucia—” she starts, “—do you think you could find out anything about that? There’s gotta be chatter somewhere about Burnish being held on the Border.”

“I’ll give it a try,” Lucia replies, already reaching over to power on another monitor.

“I—I might know something about that.” A hesitant voice speaks up behind them, and Galo whirls around to see one of the guards regarding them nervously, the one who warned them about Vulcan earlier.

Varys steps forward, flexing threateningly. “Go on.”

The dude quails but swallows and continues: “Before the rest of the Force went quiet, I heard some chatter about the situation at the border—it sounded like agents stopped the trains but the passengers fled before they could be detained. The...the theory is that Parnassan citizens in the border cities are hiding them—but the military doesn’t have the authority to search private property yet. I heard something about trying to get a pass from the king to start storming, but communication from the top has been spotty.”

“Hear that, Thyma?” Galo asks in rush, turning back to the screen. “They might be okay!”

“Anything else?” Varys prompts.

“That’s all I know!” the guy insists. “And that was a few hours ago. We haven’t heard anything from the commander or the rest of the Force since dawn.”

“We have to get things under control as soon as possible,” Meis says. “Even if that’s all true, those people can’t hide forever. And our border isn’t fortified for an assault right now. A full-scale attack would level our defenses.”

“There’s not gonna be an attack,” Galo states. “I’m gonna get Lio and take Kray down. Who’s in charge over there?”

“I have emergency authority at the moment.” Meis’s voice is tight, and Galo can see him clenching his jaw. “If Lio is killed, emergency power will be transferred to the head of the Council, but I’m officially Lio’s second-in-command.”

“Just do what you can to protect the Burnish for now.”

“Is there a plan here, your highness?” Gueira demands.

“Well, uh—no.” Galo scratches the back of his head and the three Burnish groan in unison. “But I’m gonna figure it out! As soon as we find out where Lio is—”

“Speaking of—” Lucia chirps, pointing at something blinking on her main screen. “That’s Heris trying to get through!”

Galo’s stomach swoops, heart throbbing in his ears. He glances over at Aina and finds her looking back, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

He takes a deep breath. “Patch her in.”

* * *

_“_ _—not sure if the system can recover from another meltdown.”_

_“Dr. Ardebit, I’m getting the same error message—”_

_“—whole program is locked out, I don’t—”_

_“—won’t tolerate any more delay. Whatever’s wrong, fix it.”_

_“—simple as that, there’s too many—”_

_“We go live in the morning.You have until then.”_

_“That’s—!”_

_“No excuses.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting down to the end now. i don't wanna predict when the next chapter will be done or even how many chapters are left bc i've proven i'm bad at judging that kind of thing, but it's all coming together. i somehow managed to hit the climaxes of Both of my wips at the Same Time, so i'm kind of going through it rn, but we will get there, I promise. you guys inspire me <3
> 
> i don't usually respond to comments but i'm always ready to chat on my [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast).


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